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In a Handbasket (IC)


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Murdock blinked, processing the words of the swordsman and his sidekick. "I am too heavy for any but the woman to carry. I cannot fly without my armor. If you allow me, I can fly behind you without being seen." Slowly and carefully, he added in a tentative voice. "Th-thank you. I will not trouble you, and will return to my own apartment in the morning." His head swiveled, looking up at the sky overhead. "Perhaps it is a good day."

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Miss Americana gave the swordsman a wink. "I pride myself on my ingenuity," she replied, a hint of teasing in her throaty voice. "I don't think I've met either of you before, though," she added, taking in Jill as well. "I'm Miss Americana. And I'd be happy to give you a lift," she told the Omegadrone. "I think that's the easiest way, we don't want to run into any more snags after all the trouble we've already had. I'm so interested to learn more about you." She gave Murdock a full-power smile as well, her face practically beaming.

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Murdock was only human, and for half-a-second something like a smile edged at the corner of his mouth. But the moment was gone quickly as he extended a hand to Ms. Americana. His skin was a little cool, and his bones very hard when she began to lift him up into the air. He was indeed heavy, at least three times what she'd have expected a normal man of his dimensions to weigh. "I would be happy to help." he said nearly tonelessly. "It is good to help heroes learn about their enemies."

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"I'll just bet you are," Jack responded to the introduction with a deep bow, one arm cast to the side. As the red, white and beautiful heroine lifted off with Harrier in tow, he sighed. "Why is it the nice girls always go for the monotone, part-robot horrors from beyond the universe?"

Jill gave her brother a mighty glare as she threw and arm over his shoulder. "I'm so not even speaking to you right now."

"Aw, hermanita, you know you love me," the elder sibling grinned, firing his grapple into the skyline above and swinging to catch up with the others. "Follow me, bright eyes!"

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Miss Americana slowed down in her flight to allow the swordsman and his sidekick to catch up and take the lead, since they were the ones who knew where to go. The Omegadrone was heavy, but not too heavy for the beautiful paragon to handle. "So what makes you different from the other Omegadrones?" she asked as they flew. "You're obviously not at all like the normal drones. What happened?"

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"I was a heavy combat drone. I was designed to bring down targets with abilities beyond the norm." Murdock closed his eyes for a moment, and remembered the feel of his pike coming down, hard, cutting through armored skin as the shock of impact reverberated up his arms, the cry of defiance turned to a scream of pain, and it was a dozen screams on a hundred worlds... "Several of your years ago, I was struck by a magnetic charge fired by an unknown alien starship. It destroyed the molecular circuitry that connected me to the Voice of Omega. I am _permanently_ severed from that link." he added with a trace of fire in his voice. "Forever."

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"A magnetic charge severed the link?" Miss Americana repeated, sounding intrigued. "And yet it didn't completely destroy your operating memory, obviously, or fry the circuitry for your embedded armor... I would love to get a look at you in the lab," she murmured. "In the interests of promoting Earth's defense, of course." With a delighted laugh, she looped once through the air and followed the dynamic duo into the residential neighborhoods of Freedom City.

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"Easy, girl," Jack of all Blades called as he released his grapple at the apex of one swing, Jill hanging on as the pair free fell a short distance before the swashbuckler repositioned the launcher and fired a new line. "No dissecting Steve the Omergadrone, 'kay? Guy's had a day and a half."

"Comin' in with company, Vince!" Jill announced, tapping a comlink imbedded in the collar of her crimson jacket as the procession reached the edge of the West End. The pair abruptly dropped out of the air, and without warning the garbage dumpster below them split in two, each section sliding apart to reveal a metallic chute. The opening closed behind Miss Americana and Harrier, leaving the quartet in a long, well lit passageway.

The swordsman gestured for them to continue on foot, indicating the space around him with a sweeping movement. "In case you've been living under rock or in an alternate dimension, I'm Jack of all Blades, this is my sister Jill O'Cure, and this... is The Underground."

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"I have never heard of either of you," said Harrier, frankly relieved to be around people whose parallel version he had never encountered. Meeting doubles had happened often with the Freedom League, and it had been deeply distressing each time. "You have a very spacious bunker," he added, walking along slowly. "I was not aware significant underground facilities existed in this version of Freedom City. Are you armored against quantum entropy discharges in the tri-Kelvin range?" he asked suddenly.

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"We can talk about that later," Miss Americana said breezily, giving the drone an innocently friendly look that had just a touch of suspicion. "Right now I'd love to learn more about you. How did you come to be on Earth? What are you doing to get by now? I think you said you had a job in that bar, is that right? Did you have to come up with some kind of legal identity?"

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"Don't worry about it, Steve, there's probably tons of awesome stuff you don't have over in Crapworld. Hey, Vince, do we have that quantum entro-armor stuff?" Jack asked the empty air.

The wall next to the swordsman suddenly blinked to life with a floor to ceiling screen, projecting the image of a sharply dressed middle aged man in a yellow and orange plaid suit walking alongside them. "Jacko, please, tri-Kelvin range quantum entropy discharge armor is so last season," the gregarious artificial intelligence scoffed. "These days everybody's lining up for the quad-Kelvin plating. It's got multitasking!"

"Harrier, Miss A, meet Vince," Jill supplied. "He's pretty much in charge of all of this. Vince, meet Miss Americana and Steve the Omegadrone."

The wall monitors blinked on in sequence, allowing the AI to keep pace with them, even as he blinked in simulated surprise. "Jill, honey? You wanna run that last bit by ol' Uncle Vince one more time?"

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Harrier studied the AI expressionlessly before deciding Vince was not a threat. "I live by the river in Lincoln. Not in Crapworld. They told me the Fens were crap, and that it would not be safe for me to live there." He swiveled his head again toward Ms. Americana, the movement almost a creak of metal. "When I was freed, I fled a squadron of lesser drones. The Furions found me. They taught me to be a free man. Their leader knew the Freedom League, and sent me here. I work at Champions, where I clean the tables when the customers are done eating." The last words, obviously memorized, were said with something like pride.

"Quad-kelvin plating will protect you against anything short of a main battery discharge," he added. "A reasonable investment, given your previous encounters."

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"Nice to meet you, Vince," Miss A said with a cheeky smile. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm not quite sure we have compatible equipment for that. I love your imaging processors, though. Very sharp. We found Harrier here protecting the weak and defenseless, and simultaneously scaring the bejesus out of the civilian population. He could use a place to lie low until things cool down a little bit and he can repair his secret identity."

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"What's all the noise? Everything okay, Vince?" came a voice over the intercom. A moment later Fulcrum floated down the main stairs, coffee cup in hand. She was in costume, although her cape was missing. She blinked at the two newcomers, and then offered a friendly smile. "Ah, we have guests."

Shifting the cup to the other hand, she walked up and offered a handshake to both Harrier and Miss Americana. "A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Fulcrum, the resident tank. I hope this visit is under good circumstances?" she asked, glancing over to Jack and Jill.

Smile returning, "Something to drink? We have fresh coffee and pecan pie if you're interested. Dynamo baked fifteen last night."

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Jack led their guests into the Underground's central chamber, a multifaceted room with corridors leading off in all directions and a bank of consoles in the middle. When Fulcrum arrived from the apartment complex above, the swordsman gave her a familial wave, though he managed to maneuver the group's relative positions so that Harrier and Miss Americana didn't have a good line of sight up the stairs to the brownstone.

"So, he's really..." Vince was asking Jill conspiritorially as they arrived. "But a terribly aerodynamically curvaceous tank, amirite, fellas? Looks like the Beaver's at it again, fly girl. Inviting his new playmates over for a sleepover without calling ahead."

"Hey, the guy was in a jam!" Jack protested. He turned to Mona and shrugged. "Steve here's kind of, uh... an Omegadrone. But without the merciless engine of destruction and horror part!"

"Which is key," Jill chimed in, raising her hand as though in a classroom. "Miss Americana's along for the ride 'cause mi hermano is just being mi hermano," the coltish teen added, rolling her eyes and hopping up to sit on one of the computer banks, swinging her legs back and forth.

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The Omegadrone fixed its dead, sparkless eyes on Fulcrum, looking up, then down, as he took in her gigantic frame. She is extremely large, he thought. I wonder if that is an advantage. Out loud, he said, "Hello," extending his hand in the exact same way he'd shaken Jack's hand earlier, speaking in a slow, deliberate monotone words that sounded practiced. "I am Murdock. I prefer to be called Harrier when I am a su-per-hero."

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"Oh..." said Fulcrum, though while shaking his hand, looked confused and a bit surprised over this nonchalant revelation. Maybe it was that rock-solid handshake.

Eyeing Jack and Jill's responses, she smiled and addressed Harrier, "Well, with those glowing recommendations, and the fact that the city isn't burning, welcome to our humble headquarters, Mr. Murdock. Please make yourself comfortable."

"You have a powerful grip. You were no ordinary Omegadrone were you?" she added, emphasizing the past tense, and signaling her acceptance of his person and condition.

Sipping her coffee once more, she glanced up to Vince and joked, "Flatterer. What did Archeville bribe you with to say that, Boss?"

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Miss A shook hands with Fulcrum and smiled at the tall, tall woman. "I'm Miss Americana," she said, "it's lovely to meet you. I've been known to do a little bit of tanking in my time, and we do have complimentary uniforms. We should get together and talk sometime." With a wink, she turned her attention back to Vince, Jack and Jill. "So where's a good place for Harrier to go? After the day he's had, I imagine he might be ready for some peace and quiet."

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"No." he said tersely. "I was not." When the gigantic woman made no further issue of his past, Murdock relaxed momentarily, his head swiveling as he studied the others. It was a little unsettling to be around so many powerful people, but that was only because they were strangers. He'd been around plenty who outweighed him among the Furions, and when speaking to the Freedom League. "I do not wish to impose."

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"I don't trust her," Jill murmured, with an eye toward Miss Americana. "She smiles and winks too much."

Her older brother rolled his eyes and replied in a similarly hushed tone. "You don't trust anybody, hermanita."

"Well duh, people are jerks," the coltish teenager asserted with a sniff.

"Bribe nothing, I've got a whole new subroutine devoted to that," Vince answered Fulcrum with a rueful grin. "I wish you'd take the guy out more; it'd give him less time to fiddle with my ones and zeroes!"

"Hey, don't worry about it, man," Jack assured Harrier with a dismissive wave. "We've got a bunch of spare rooms down here just in case. Get you set up with some TV, little pie, no sweat."

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"Yes, that sounds lovely," she replied to Miss Americana before turning to Vince.

"The man is married to his work, Boss, you know that. Unfortunately that means you're part of the work. Really though? If he is putting those sorts of extras into your programming, I'll ask him to reconsider. We need you working 100% efficiently and an objective outlook," she quipped, but adding, "Not that you're bottom shelf. You know what I mean."

"You're not imposing at all, Mr. Murdock. The place is more interesting with people anyway," she began before zipping away. She returned momentarily, that is a few seconds, with a tray with coffee and slices of pie, including ones for the Jack and Jill. After passing around refreshments, she leaned against the computer bank, next to Jill, and took a bit of pie.

"So what brings you to our little universe, Mr. Murdock? I know this is going to be a good story."

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"It was impossible for me to remain in the Terminus. A drone who has escaped is hunted forever." Murdock spoke without looking up, his hands moving with a slow, mechanical precision as he took a piece of pie and began to cut it into tiny bites with a fork. It wasn't that he was like a machine, the others saw after a moment, it was more that the motions were the slow, deliberate gestures of someone who'd been practicing them for hours. Perhaps in a mirror. "This is very good pie," he said after taking a bite. "I like chocolate."

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"It's excellent," Miss Americana agreed, taking a small bite of her pie. She wasn't eating much of the rich dessert, but then, not all heroines got a super-metabolism as part of their deal. "How did you make it to Prime?" she asked Murdock curiously. "Do drones have the ability to travel between dimensions, or did you have to get access to some piece of technology to let you do it? She didn't think that Omegadrones could dimension-hop, please God no, but she was curious.

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Vince waved Fulcrum's concerns away. "Pshaw, like I wouldn't make with the compliments anyway. You're a good looking bunch." His image disappeared from the wall and popped on on one of the monitors in the center of the room, right next to Jack. "Have you seen what this guys does with a pair of tights?"

"It's true, I'm fabulous," Jack confirmed for their guests in a tone that suggest the recital of dry fact. While he dug into his dessert with abandon, his sister seemed distracted, watching Harrier intently. As the former Omegadrone stated his flavour preference, the teenage girl reflexively covered her mouth with both hands to contain a high pitched sound.

"Dios, I want to get him a blanket and a hot chocolate and a colouring book," she whispered to Vince's projected avatar. "What's that about?"

The AI shifted his outfit to include an apron and curly grey wig. "Maternal instincts, I'm sure," he suggested. "Keenly developed from taking care of big bro all these years."

Next to them, Jack paused with his milk to his mouth, making a questioning noise that reverberated in the glass, eliciting a sigh from his sibling.

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"I lack the ability to travel between dimensions." agreed the former drone. He continued eating, knife and fork rising and falling methodically and carefully, the way he did almost everything. "I was transported to this plane by the Furions; those who war against Omega in the Terminus. They were allies of your Centurion, and the other heroes of the Freedom League, of old. They felt it better I live away from them." When he was finished eating, he set the plate down. "My own experience with dimensional travel was limited to the time before my freedom," he said shortly. "Thank you for the pie."

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