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"Is it actually loyalty if it's programmed?" Jill mused aloud as they walked, sounding very much as though she were talking largely to herself before blinking and looking to the rest of the group and the robotic bee itself. "It's not like you got to make a choice about it; he says jump, you say zero one one zero one zero zero zero." The young woman raised her hands to fend of any protests shrugging to make it obvious that she wasn't trying to start an argument over it. "I'm just saying, is all. I'm sure you'd do something about it if you thought you were being taken advantage of."

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Fleur plodded along at the back of the group as they continued the trip, puffing as she walked but doggedly continuing on. The giant bee robot seemed to be matching its pace to ensure she didn't fall behind, which meant the group as a whole wasn't making great time. The last thing Stesha wanted to do, though, was miss a step she couldn't see and go tumbling down the stairs, especially with no powers to catch her. "Where did the Beekeeper find all the materials to create you?" she asked the bee, sounding winded.

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Gabriel was silent during the discussion of the nature of free will versus programming, so far as it concerned natural and artificial giant bees. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself when that though crossed his mind.

'Never thought I'd see the day I considered any sort of giant bee "natural". I suppose some things are relative; the ones on Stesha's planet do seem to be able to act like normal, if more intelligent, bees at least.'

When Stesha asked her question, he perked up a bit. He was curious himself, even as he spared the pregnant woman another worried glance.

"I'm actually curious myself. Well, about that, and about where he found all this honey. Because...I mean, shoot, this is a heck of a lot of honey."

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"We are programmed to manufacture honey to power our enginez! The Bee-Keeper made the first batch of honey in his cell by fermenting it in the tank of the waste disposal device! It iz very special honey indeed. We are also programmed not to listen to your tricky wayz!" exclaimed the bee. "And that is not even a word! What you should have zaid was: 0110100001101111011101110010000001101000011010010110011101101000! Ahahahah!" The bee bobbed in the air, looking very pleased with itself as it rattled off the rapid fire string of binary. Before the bee could get into any further debates, luckily robot and hero finally reached their destination, having looped down and around several levels to get there. They were at the maximum security visiting lounge built into the side of the mountain itself, where prisoners in the Bee-Keeper's usual level met their lawyers, families, and the like. Today it wasn't just the inmates who were prisoners, though: a small collection of guards, lawyers, and one heavily-tattooed man in power-nullifying cuffs were in one corner of the big room, all of them eying the three robotic bees who had them surrounded in a low circle.

There was, at least, not much honey here, though Freedom Angel was hero enough to open the door for the others and save them putting their hands on the honey-coated pushbar outside. Standing on his own in the middle of the room, two robot bees at either side like guarding lions, stood the figure of the Bee-Keeper, hands on his hips and covered from head to toe in honey, wearing only his prison slacks. He seemed to light up at their arrival. "Hah, you see!" He pointed at the door, then looked back at his prisoners. "I told you they would come! Fleur de Joie and her companions have striven through the obstacles in their way to fight for justice, just as true superheroes should!" It, oddly enough, did not sound like he was being sarcastic or buttering them up: he meant every world. "Welcome to my prison, heroes." He put his hand on his chest. "They may have chained my body, but as you can see, my SOUL has been free the whole time. And I...sweet honeybee of Galilee!" he exclaimed, giving Fleur a shocked look as he caught sight of her stomach. "You're pregnant! Why are you here? You should be in a palace with your husband, ready to birth a flower for the next generation!"

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Fleur did not smack her forehead with her palm, but it was a close-run thing. "I'm here because you demanded I be here, remember?" she told him, making her way to the front of the group. "You're putting a lot of innocent people in danger by what you're doing here, Beekeeper. If you'd wanted the Freedom League's attention, you could have asked. There was no need for all this." She shifted from foot to foot, took a deep breath. "Why don't you tell us exactly what it is you want to say."

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"Well if I had known you were expecting, I would have postponed seizing the prison!" he exclaimed as if that made sense. "In fact, I could...no, I imagine they won't let me do this again in a few months." He hmmed, putting his hand on his chin with a little squishing sound. "Anyway...my story. I have tried to tell the guards, and the psychologists, and anyone else who would listen, but none of them have cared! It's just that nutty Bee-Keeper, he can't admit what he did because murder isn't part of his dominant psychological makeup, so he has to hold his dark and gritty crimes in his heart where he can't remember them." He looked frankly outraged at the thought. "Some of them have even suggested my phantom psychosis came from abuse at the hands of my sainted mother! Shocking!"

He dropped his hands, creating a little spray of honey, and said, "But...yes, yes, I shall tell you my tale of woe. On the night of February 13, 2011, I awoke from a sound sleep to the sound of whimpering. There was...there was a man in my cell, carrying a woman I vaguely recognized: Emma Twill, the superheroine known as Honey Queen. I could not see the man's face, he wore a black armor with a design I did not recognize. It wasn't one of mine, or Malice's...rather, this was the armor produced by a truly mad heart. I screamed for help, but he silenced me with a finger to his lips: he told me the woman was dying of a massive overdose of bee venom that he had injected into her with his own two hands, and offered her to me as a trophy. I knew the signs well enough; I have made a study of bee venom intimately. She had certainly taken a fatal dose. I refused, I had nothing to aid her with, but he told me she would be grateful if she lived, that she could testify on my behalf and perhaps free me. So I took her, her body swollen and her eyes rolling in agony, and used a bladed instrument I had manufactured out of my toothbrush to perform an emergency tracheotomy. But it was too late. We had dickered too long; the dark man was gone and she was dying."

For a moment, just a moment, the 'persona' of the Bee-Keeper seemed to fade. "And she looked at me. She just...just looked, and then the light just went out of her eyes as I tried to stop the bleeding. I screamed again, and again, and the guards came and they beat me, and threw me in solitary, and afterwards they said there was no evidence." He squared his shoulders, his confidence seeming to return, as he said, "So they...they banished me to this place, with no respect for justice, hardly holding an investigation simply because they believed a man is untrustworthy simply because he has violated the law of man frequently! No one would listen; so I had to make them listen."

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Gabriel took in the honey-soaked scene with a frown. Those hostages made things a bit tenser than he would have liked. But that was the nature of the beast, in the end. He eyed the man in nullifier cuffs with a frown; that could be a wildcard they didn't need. The sight of the Bee-Keeper covered in honey made him give out an involuntary sigh of long-suffering.

'This is going to be a long day, I just know it.'

He was content to let Bowles speak his piece, though he flinched a bit as Fleur's temper clearly frayed even more. But when the man started speaking of what led him to Blackstone, Gabriel's expression grew grave. He just knew that the man was speaking truth. As the Bee-Keeper...No, as Barry Bowles described seeing the woman die in front of him, the hero in white closed his eyes for a moment, crossed himself, and muttered a brief prayer for the departed.

When he spoke of simply being thrown away without investigation, Gabriel couldn't help it. Anger showed through his features; lawbreaker or no, this man had been done an injustice. Gabriel walked to the front of the group, sparing a moment to lay a calming hand on Fleur's shoulder. He finally stopped a couple of paces forward of the rest of the group. He was looking Bee-Keeper in the eye; despite his mask and hood, his face showed genuine compassion. When he spoke, said compassion laced his words, as did conviction.

"Bee-Keeper...No. Barry Bowles. Look. I won't say you were wrongly imprisoned in Providence. You broke laws, you paid the price dictated by society. You seem to realize this.

But the events that led us here? Those events were not fair. Your sentence here was not in accordance with the basic concepts of our legal system. I hear nothing of a second trial; of any actual investigation. They told you there was no evidence, despite a woman's body containing absurd amounts of bee venom. Something you wouldn't have access to in your cell. You're right. You are innocent of this woman's death. I believe you. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry you were sent here.

I cannot speak to how difficult it is to watch another human being die in your arms. I have never lived through such a thing. I have seen death from afar, I have seen the aftershocks of death. I have faced many terrors, but not that one. I do not know what I can do to ease the pain it must have caused you. I can only swear this.

I will do everything I can to see you given justice. I will work within the system to ensure you are given true justice. That you are sent back to Providence as a man innocent of this crime. Furthermore, I will see what I can do to search for this dark, armored man. I do not know how successful that search will be, but that promise is the best I can do.

Now, come. Let us sit, especially Lady Fleur de Joie. We traveled down a lot of stairs."

He gestured to some of the chairs nearby, hopefully with enough to hold them all.

"We shall sit, you shall speak a bit more, and I shall do my best to listen."

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"Aheheheh....well, I did have bee venom in my cell, actually," said Bowles, looking a little sheepish as if he'd been caught like a naughty boy. "Nearly a gallon. I have learned to synthesize the key components via a certain proprietary process wherein I...well, it's very complicated!" He put his hands on his hips, recovering his bobbled confidence. "At any rate, I will admit that finding the quantity I had produced did tell against me, but they found no evidence of any so-called emergency teleporter! As if I would waste bee venom on murder, or a teleporter on a kidnapping!" He eyed Gabriel and said, "I believe you. I believe that you speak in the interests of justice, and that you desire to free me from this appalling place. But I also believe that the agents of the dark man are everywhere! Who is to say where he has gone and what he has done? His spies are everywhere, just like the ants which I believe might be his agents! How am I to know I can be safe in your courts when he is still free? Do you know what ants do to a man covered in honey?"

Freedom Angel stared at the madman for a moment before saying simply, "He's speaking the truth. Barry Bowles is innocent of the murder of Emma Twill." He didn't explain how he knew; an angel's certainty of the moral sanctity of a human soul was not admissable in any mortal court. He rubbed his eyes, a pained look on his beautiful face. "Christ give me strength...so we have a murderer who has killed a superhero, dumped her mortal remains in a cell at Providence, and framed the Bee-Keeper. In the name of God, Barry Bowles, let these people go!"

"I mean them no harm," reassured the Bee-Keeper, impressed at the double team of angel and angelic speaker. "But how can I trust that _I_ will be safe in a system that has already chained me inside a cage of lies and hurled that cage into a sea of confusion and doubt?"

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Gaian Knight chewed on that one a bit. It's not that he didn't know the answer - he imagined pretty much everybody present knew the answer - but it probably wasn't the answer anybody present wanted to hear. Then again, he did generally try to believe that honesty was the best policy. Hell, I was never a great liar anyway.

"You don't," he replied, simply. He spread his arms, shrugging - not without sympathy, but just to underline the helplessness of everyone's collective position. "Life's not very good at guarantees, and anybody who tries to tell you that the deck's not stacked against you is probably lying. But none of us have a lot of options, here, and sometimes you just have to take the best option you've got. If you run, we - or someone else - have to catch you, and you look more guilty for running...not to mention, your sentence gets worse and you risk being stuck here forever, because they'll think Providence just can't be trusted to hold you anymore. If you don't give up your hostages, the people up above are eventually going to lose patience: they'll find a way to shut you down, or they'll send in people - heroes, soldiers - who really will believe you killed somebody."

He put his hands back in his pockets, though one inevitably, unconsciously found its way back to resting on the hilt of his sword. "Your best option is to show good faith - to let your hostages go; they didn't earn any of this. Well, him, maybe," he drolly corrected, gesturing a pocketed hand at the one in the nullifier. "But not the rest. You did what you could, you got our attention. Now you just have to trust us - trust Fleur, if no one else - to do what we can to help you. Anything else is likely to just make things worse."

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While the others were speaking, Fleur made her way over to one of the tables anchored into the floor and leaned against it. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths. The trip down here had taken a lot out of her, she told herself, and the loss of her powers as well. That was all that was going on right now.

She opened her eyes. "It doesn't prove anything," she told the others. "He doesn't believe he did it, but he's been judged mentally unsound once. He could believe any number of things that aren't true. And if he didn't do it, then who did, and why? If there's a murderer on the loose at Providence, and he's already tried to frame the Beekeeper, sending him back there could mean his death or someone else's. We need some sort of proof,or at least a clue. Think back, Barry," she told the honey-covered man. "Do you remember anything else about what happened? Anything that could help us identify this dark man?"

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Bowles looked away for a moment, composing himself. "I...the syringe?" Faced with the prospect of staying here, the Bee-Keeper looked a little shaken. It didn't look like he'd so much as considered the possibility of this not working. "I...yes, the syringe! I remember...they accused me of using a particular syringe found inside my cell, one laden with the apitoxin that killed that poor innocent girl! But it was no syringe of mine, no, I use all-American medical equipment in my work, because I respect this great nation. The syringe that killed Emma Twill came from Archetech Medical Supplies! Which means it could only have been...any number of people, of course." He looked away, adding under his breath, "Anyone who didn't respect the hard-working American worker, that is."

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"Huh." Gaian Knight rubbed his chin through the cloth over his face, pondering that revalation. It would have to be a huge, active company that probably goes through syringes like popcorn. Still.... "I always thought ArcheTech was an America-based company. Well, it's somewhere to start, at least - any good lead's better than no lead at all, after all." If, he privately admitted, not necessarily much better. I really hope ArcheTech doesn't actually supply the prison with its medical equipment. That'd be really unhelpful.

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"That's a good first step, yes. Is there anything else, beyond the whole "how did she get in the cell" part?"

Gabriel paced a bit as he thought, tapping his chin and speaking as thoughts came to him.

"Perhaps we could have one of those police sketch artists help you generate a picture of the man who came into your cell? If such a person is spotted again, it would help bear out the truth of your words. Hm. What about getting some of the heroes with mental gifts involved? Could they perhaps present evidence of his innocence of the deed? Or is that too far-fetched? Then again, is anything far-fetched in the pursuit of truth?"

He was practically talking to himself now; the whole situation clearly had him feeling a bit befuddled.

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"Yes, yes, I believe I could," said the Bee-Keeper thoughtfully. "In fact, he looked a great deal like-" Suddenly, from a corner of the room, there came a blur of motion as that manacled prisoner broke from his restraints and snatched up a pen. "Snitches get stitches, Barry!" he spat before hurling a sharpened pencil at the Bee-Keeper's naked, unprotected torso! The missile flew with unerring accuracy, but one hero's heart turned out to be stronger than murder. Well, depending on your perspective: the impromptu weapon missed the Bee-Keeper because it plunged into the chest of the angel of Freedom! "Well, bless my soul," said Heyzel, looking down with some surprise as shining red blood leaked out from around the injury in his chest. "That's quite deep." His face turning pale, he added, "Please don't be alarmed. I will be fine."

"Aw, damn it! Stupid angel! That's what you get for coming into jail!" His attempted assassin hurled something in a fast, whirling blur that resolved into a set of prison-issue eyeglasses as they smashed into the metal hull of one of the robotic bees, who had flown in quickly to take the hit for both Bee-Keeper and the angel who'd taken one through the chest defending him.

"Not on my watch, maggot! Ahahaha! laughed the bee tinnily.

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Gabriel had turned as Bowles responded positively; this was good, excellent even. Cooperation, and in such a way that it helped potential investigations as well!

Then the big prisoner yelled and threw a pencil at the Bee-Keeper. And of course, Heyzel stepped in the way. Taking it right in the chest. Gabriel was stunned for a brief moment, before he gritted his teeth in anger and charged the prisoner.

"Sit down and shut up!"

He swung the taser right at the man's face, hoping to get a good blow in.

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Jill had remained silent throughout the exchange with Bee-Keeper with some difficulty, concerned that she would be tempted to speak too frankly to the frustrating madman. As the situation suddenly erupted into violence, however, she rushed to Hayzel's side with the speed of reflex and a string of curses of surprising fury. "You featherbrained idiot!" she cried as she withdrew a roll off clean bandages from her crimson jacket and did what she could to support the winged hero's weight. "Do you even have magic angel regeneration whatever right now?! Gah, don't touch it, is this a pencil?!" Despite her string of indignant words, the young woman's gloved hands worked with sureness and precision, wrapping the bandages around Hayzel's torso and the makeshift weapon, sealing the wound and putting firm pressure around it while she checked his chiseled face for signs of shock. Without looking away she called irritably to the would-be assassin, "'Snitches get stitches'? Seriously? I've jumped rope to more intimidating rhymes than that. And your aim is lousy!"

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"Heyzel, no!" Fleur cried, flinching as her friend was struck by the small, inoffensive, hardly credible flying missile. She automatically reached for the crown of pink flowers in her hair, but they were only petals now, none of them opening to move them all to the safetly of the surface. Before she could think of what to do, Jill had gone to the ground with the fallen angel and was taking care of him as best as could be managed under the circumstances. Doing her best to ignore another deep stab of pain, she turned her attention to the fight.

Moving as quickly as she could, Fleur took cover behind one of the robot bees, who obligingly held still to allow it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her healing poultices, which was for the moment nothing more than a ball of sticky sap and herbs. It was better than nothing. Peeking out from behind the bee, she whipped the poultice at the stabbing villain, smacking him in the face with the gummy lump.

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Words were a nicety extended to people who could be talked down, not people who'd just stabbed a teammate in the chest with an improvised knife. No sooner had Fleur's poultice hit the man in the face than Gaian Knight charged up from the side, his sword and sheath pulled free of his belt and swung like a big leather-wrapped club right into the man's ribs. He tried to follow up with a strike with the taser, too, but the extra weight of the sheath fouled him up - pulling him just off-balance enough to keep the electric device from connecting.

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"Actually, no," said Heyzel, speaking with great clarity despite the sharp object lodged perilously close to his heart. "I specifically helped the prison install anti-divine buffers in order to keep their demonic inmates from burning their way out of their cells. If this form dies, take me outside the walls so that I can resume my connection to the angelic..." He stopped talking when Jill managed to stem the bleeding out his chest, and looked very impressed. "Well, this is marvelous. Thank you, Jill! I shall not pass into that dark kingdom after all. I should not have doubted your skills."

For his part, Heyzel's assassin was in a bad way; having been distracted by Jill's taunting and Gaian Knight's savage pummeling, not to mention the attacks he'd been facing from the other heroes. "Snitches get stitches!" he yelled again, flailing around as he tried to come to grips with the earthen swordsman. For their part, the other hostages were shouting at "Marksman" to surrender, his lawyer yelling that the only thing he'd stabbed through the heart was his chance for release before 2050...

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The would-be assassin was reeling, clearly having trouble focusing on the fight. Gabriel saw his chance, and he took it. Using a moment to slip the taser into one of his coat pockets, Gabriel sent his right fist roaring at the pencil-thrower's left temple. The hit connected with a loud, meaty sound.

"Ya blasted son of a gun! Sit your fool rear down! Before we make you take a nap!"

Running off the adrenaline, anger, and momentum, Gabriel took another swing. This punch landed in the sharp-throwers midsection, just below the ribs on the right side. It didn't sound quite as painful as the first hit, but it was still a solid blow.

"I'm going to lamp you out of it, you blood git!"

It seemed that the agitation of having to engage in fisticuffs while a good friend was laying on the floor bleeding had made Gabriel's control of his accent and slang slip a bit. Then again, with the honey and the giant bees and such, it probably didn't stand out much.

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"Hmph," Jill nodded at Heyzel's bandaged wound with some satisfaction. "Don't suppose it would do any good if I told you to try not to move?" Cracking her neck, the young woman turned her attention to the attacker who was managing to remain standing despite a sound thrashing at the hands of Gabriel and Gaian Knight. "Can we please wrap this up?" she groused, retrieving her borrowed weapon from the floor and brandishing it in a similar fashion to a fencing blade. Timing her strike carefully to avoid getting in the older heroes' way, she landed a shocking blow that sent another jolt into the convict.

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"It's all right, Heyzel," Stesha told the injured angel, steering her cover bee over to him and Jill. She knelt down next to him, not an easy proposition. "We'll get you out of here, or they'll turn off the blockers and everything will..." She trailed off as another pain hit, this one sharper and longer than the ones before it. It took her breath away for a moment, and when it eased, she didn't resume her thought, but instead looked down at herself with a rather striken expression. "I don't suppose the floor was wet before I sat down?" she asked Jill quietly.

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For about the twentieth time since the fight began with the angel's stabbing, Gaian Knight wished he could just reach out and hit this punk with a rock. A big one. Maybe a boulder.

But, lacking a boulder and not particularly wanting to impale the guy he opted to leave tasering to people who seemed to be much better at it, swinging his sword and sheath into the man's stomach as hard as he could. At least this piece of metal is being good for something, for once. And good job, Robot Bee. Cover for the people who need it - your cousins would be proud.

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Gabriel grit his teeth through the growing ache in his hands; nothing was broken, but padding or no, his hands weren't used to this sort of constant striking. Nonetheless, he soldiered on, knowing he had to help keep this guy busy, for the sake of Freedom Angel and Fleur (who really didn't need to be involved in a fistfight right now).

"Come on you great bloody git! Take a hint and lay down!"

A left cross hit close to where he'd previously struck the man's right side, working to really knock the wind out of him.

"So take a bloody hint and get your arse to napping!"

His right hand drives up right into the solar plexus of the criminal, working to knock every last bit of breath from his body, and hopefully rattle his brain so much he just falls over.

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With Gabriel's last blow, the villain sunk to the ground unconscious, having earned nothing but missing teeth and taser marks for his quixotic last stand against all the heroes after him at once. For his part, with his wounds fixed by Jill, the observant Heyzel thought nothing of himself and everything of Fleur de Joie. He had an angel's keen perceptions even now, and her need was greater than his. "Good, he's defeated and the Bee-Keeper will surrender with my word that when the investigation is completed, he will be returned to the place where he belongs. Won't you?" Even badly wounded, the flash of holy fire in his eyes was enough to make Barry swallow and nod. "And now...does anyone have a way to take Fleur out of the building?"

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