"That's good though, right?  I mean, it could be interesting instead.  Hastles galore.  Fighting in the jungles, living the life of an Elite.  Or maybe just cloak and dagger stuff.

So Flare's still on the team right?  How's she handling it, being the veteran and all?"

Another shrug.  "I suppose.  I don't think I could stand to do a lot of combat anymore these days.  Columbia sort of...burned me out."  She pulled out a cutting board and a knife and started working on chopping some onion and garlic.  "You like pasta right?"

"Flare?  She's doing ok, I guess.  I think she likes the idea of being the leader, but..."  There was another shrug, but there was the impression of something uncomfortable there.  She didn't want to go into detail.

At some point in the evening, Gale's phone showed a voice message.  Apparently an armed someone had tried to sneak onto her floor.  Security was holding them downstairs in case she wanted to press charges.  They claimed to have reason to suspect that either Gale or her guest was a target.

And as the sun went down, a small column of smoke could be seen rising into the sky from a building fire.  Somewhere in the new condominium blocks past the convention center where Gale was speaking earlier.

In a place unknown to the former and current members of T2M:A Suzukaze arrives for her first official meeting with Logan. She thought back to the New Year's party and how Logan had first approached her. Her mind flashed to the horrors of Columbia and Paul's message from the Assassin's. She remembered the pain Fire put her through and the attack on the Hot Springs. She remembered what she was. As much as she wanted to be a hero and to seek redemption for her past deeds their was no hope. She was a killer. She was death. Her redemption would not be saving lives, but of taking more. Taking the lives of those who try to ruin the world. T2M could not let her accomplish this. Logan's group could.

"Las Vegas is malfunctioning.  Killings, gang violence, arson, hooliganism.  Perhaps by changing the working parts we can build a different machine."

Negotiations had stalled.  It was time for a gesture of good faith to grease the wheels.  To that end, Wilhelm advanced across the proscenium and whipped a shiny silver sheet off of a collection of shrouded shapes with an exaggerated flourish.  Six killbots security drones were revealed, three caterpillar bots the size of small cars and three heli-drones.  All six were painted in LVPD black and white and bore the LVPD 'We Have Control.  We Keep You Safe.' slogan.  Wilhelm pushed a button on a remote and the sextet entered into demonstration mode, deploying water cannons and mace dispensers, activating lights and sirens, displaying x-ray backscatter images of the audience.  The Metropolitan Chief of Police stepped forward and Wilhelm handed over the remote, pausing midway for a photo op.

"With these hands of iron, Chief, there is no task you cannot do.  May this gift be the first step toward a better Las Vegas."

As Logan watched Suzukaze from the shadows, several minutes passed.  Once the rest of the team was certain that there was no one with her, he stepped out of the shadows.  "Glad you made it.  Was worried you'd reconsidered."  Logan was an intimidating nova, an inky blot of writhing eufiber encasing a grizzled male form.  As he spoke to 'Kaze, the eufiber on his face pulled back to reveal a haggard and lean face.  "So tonight's the trial run.  We have a little corporate espionage to perform, and then we're out.  If all goes well, you'll get your clearances and contact info.  You'll even get to meet the rest of our little sometimes-team.  Tonight though you just get to make do with me, and a loner from the criminal reform program."  Another man was apparently hidden in the shadows, because as Logan gestured, a Japanese man appeared to join them.  When he opened his mouth to speak, it was not his voice that reached 'Kaze's ears, but rather a far more familiar one.

"Hello Suzukaze, I'm so very happy you're safe," said Annette.

"Thank you, Hell Kraken."

Sheriff Bill Young stared sternly into the cameras as he took over.  Metro had been more than happy to arrange a press event for the gift, anything to restore the public trust in the wake of recent hate crimes.  "Since the Equatorial Wars and the Iraqi occupation, Kraken Heavy Industries has partnered with businesses and municipalities around the world to adapt KHI Drone Units to a variety of public uses.  These security drones will bolster LVMPD officers in a limited capacity during their trial period.  Their software has been vigorously tested to ensure that they are safe for public use, but we will proceed with the utmost caution until such a time as we are comfortable and practiced in their use."

He stepped aside, allowing the next speaker, the only one that Kraken had not had occasion to talk with in planning the new slogans and purchases with LVMPD.  The recently elected State Attorney General, Thomas Anders.  Hell Kraken found the man's reactions peculiar.  Very controlled.  He had scarring on his forehead, likely evidence of a shrapnel related head injury.

"On behalf of the state, I too would like to thank Hell Kraken for his generous gifts.  We have all seen the fighting capabilities of KHI Security Drones and eagerly anticipate positive results.  Before we open to questions, I'd like to say that the Government understands the sensitivity and extraordinary nature of recent events, and our new policies aim to address your fears directly."

The six drones finished their demonstration.  Anders changed gears.  "There has also been public discourse on the subject of vigilantism of late.  To those who have fallen so garishly in love with these vigilantes, this," he indicated the drones again "is our response.  The law exists to ensure the public order for all citizens, and vigilantism, no matter how well intentioned, remains illegal."

"In extreme circumstances, co-policing arrangements with Team Tomorrow remain in effect.  This is a safe community and a world city.  There is nothing to fear here."  Did he give the thumbs up to Hell Kraken as he stepped away from the podium?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:35, Tue 15 Feb 2011.

Phantasm allowed Gale to avoid topics that were uncomforatable.  Flare probably confided in Gale, considering they were still both part of Utopia, and Phantasm had no desire to violate that confidence.  Not that she wouldn't do so in heartbeat if it were a worthwhile course of action, but Phantasm couldn't think of any reason Flare's emotional turmoil was of any interest.

As the night moved forward, Phantasm tried to make small talk and relax her brain.  She did like Gale, and aside from minor groundwork for potential conversations later, there was no need for manipulation or subterfuge beyond the normal evasions regarding who she truly was... but that was second nature by this point.  It's good to relax, chat about fun stuff, and catch up with friends.  I should do this more often...

Just as Phantasm was beginning to really enjoy her evening and Gale's food, the phone beeped, reminding her that there was an unpleasant world out there just waiting to leap on them in a moment of weakness.  Phantasm came back to reality, scanning for details and danger.  When the smoke caught her eye, she pointed it out to Gale.  "Should we check it out?"

Solitaire wandered the streets of downtown Vegas aimlessly, not wishing to do anything more than reacquaint herself with the city. It wasn't her city, that would be Seattle, if she in fact had a city. It didn't really seem important, cities and people. They had their problems, but they weren't her problems, even so, she had taken them on for years. Let the baselines stand for themselves, or fall if they wanted. It made little difference to her. The world had changed, and they needed to find their place in it again, not have one made for them.

People stared as she walked past, it didn't bother her. The same with those few who cheered her or cursed her. Their opinion of her didn't matter. There was only one person who's approval she'd ever truly wanted, and she had been dead for years. Or mostly dead. Or perhaps not at all. Alexa tended to appear when Solitaire needed her most. Whether this was Solitaire going insane or some odd quantum-related phenomenon was still in question, but then, that wasn't really important either. What was important, was Solitaire approved of herself.

Her meandering course took her straight through a crowd of Michaelists protesting something or other. Even they didn't really bother her. A few aborted rants and glares were the best the crowd could manage with her in arms reach, and a simple quirked eyebrow was enough to clear a path for her.

In and of itself, Solitaire didn't have a problem with the Church of Michael Archangel. People feared that which they did not understand, it had ever been the case. What she took exception too were the high-powered rifle rounds the more fanatical ones tended to put through young nova's heads. She didn't condemn the whole group for it, in the same way she hoped people didn't condemn the Teragen for the presence of those like Shrapnel and Geryon. Still, if she ever caught one of the crazy ones... Turnabout was fair play after all.

She planned to look in on her local Cards while she was in town as well. Not that any of them knew it was her House of Cards. She'd started it mainly as a hobby, something to occupy her in the off hours, something to watch. A way to help those who didn't want her help, just wanted the opportunity to help themselves. She respected her Cards, was proud of them, and the possessive pronoun was a disservice to them. It may have been her idea, but the House of Cards had built itself. She liked to look in on them however, to see what they had made of her contributions. Some might see it as counter to the Teras she espoused. But she didn't see it that way. Solitaire was not their leader, was not responsible for them. They were their own people, that was the whole point of the exercise.

Kraken had spoken of Power. Solitaire didn't need power, it was simply a means. It had no value outside of what you could do with it. What Solitaire wanted, and wanted others to want as well, was Strength.

Gale was certainly happy to entertain and cook for her friend, even if it was simple college fair like her trusty Tomato-Artichoke Penne recipe.  Honestly, outside of T2M, she didn't really have any friends that she could just invite over to hang out and chat.  Her new condo was cozy, but lonely sometimes.  Perhaps that was why she had filled her life with so many new projects.

The phone message was an annoyance.  After the strange package, she didn't want to have anything to do with anyone who might be trying to do something to her.  She tapped out a quick reply saying not to press charges, but she'd want to see the report later.  She looked up as she hit the "send" button to see the smoke Phantasm was pointing out.

Standing up to get a better look, she turned and grinned.  "You up for it?  It'd be like old times.  Saving the world and stuff."  Before the world was full of serious life-threatening missions that ended in nuclear explosion.  She offered a hand to her friend, pulling open the secret glass panel with the other.

"Its been months since I've done anything other than stunts and bad acting.  Lets go do something that matters!"  Phantasm took Gale's hand, and shifted the eufiber that she always wore (damned thing wouldn't let go if she wanted it to) into a more aerodynamic form, something to provide a little lift and reduce the strain on the winged woman.

When the man stepped out Suzukaze looked at him emotionless. However when Annette's voice came from his lips her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. She turned taking a few steps towards him. She stared into his eyes.

"Annette?" She then threw her arms around the possessed body hugging it. "My god your out I can't believe it," she turns to Logan. "Is she out for good or does she have to go back? If everything goes good I want to be partnered with her.

Phantasm and Gale took to the sky, lonely figures against the city of light.  The fire had begun on a construction site for a new twenty-story condominium tower.  Unfortunately, a nearly finished one.  The sirens of incoming fire crews began to sing as the pair arrived.  Maybe another five or ten minutes before the hoses would begin spraying water.  From the look of it, the fire had probably started on the roof or one of the topmost floors, and chances were good that the fire department would be able to save surrounding buildings.

But this one was in trouble.  And there were people inside: Gale spotted someone near a window on the sixteenth floor.  Phantasm heard some shouting -- several voices, and one of them seemed to be speaking Latin.  There were two cars parked near the base of the building, and a single white panel van.  The cars were economy, dirty, with trash and junk visible in the rear windshields.

Whoever was by the window moved away quickly and fell out of sight.  The argument became barely audible as they neared the building.

"... someone's out there! ..."
"... got to get out of here ..."
"... him?  He told us to stay here until ..."
"... demon!  Why would you believe ..."
"... is bad ... really bad ..."
"... everybody calm down!  We can handle this! ..."

"...what on earth are they doing in there" Phantasm mumbled as she listened and calculated the structural integrity of the building, appropriate vector of approach, and created a 3-d schematic of the building in her mind.

"There's something weird going on in there, but we've still gotta save them. Hmm.  How much fine control your air control have?  A vacuum would put out the fire, but wouldn't be too good for the people inside... I can create some critters, but the people in there sound like they might panic if they saw anything too creepy.  And as the training vids tell us, fire and panic don't mix well."  Phantasm continued with a rapid stream of possible courses of action as they approached, but let Gale take the lead since her powers were tailor made for this problem.

Gale frowned as well.  She could see the people through the windows, but they moved away.  Why?  Wouldn't they want to be seen and noticed by the fire department?  Moving back inside a burning building didn't seem like the smartest idea.  Then again, as Phantasm had pointed out, people didn't always think rationally when in a dangerous situation like this.

"No, I think your critters might cause panic, like you said.  I can create vacuums around the fire, but I'll have to do it in pieces.  Best if I find the center."  She paused to set Phantasm down on the building next to the burning one.  "Can you do anything to put out the fire?  If not, maybe see if you can locate the people and secure a route out for them.  I'll work on finding the center and putting the blaze out.  If I run into any people, I'll see what I can do to send them your way."  This would be a lot easier if they had their headsets like when they were on the team, but as it was, this would have to do.

If Phantasm agreed, then the plan was in place.  Gale took off to go find a window she could break to get inside and find the core of the blaze.  If necessary, she'd activate her wind shield to protect her from the heat and smoke.

Phantasm nodded, and then gave Gale her best guess regarding the center of the blaze.  When Gale flew off Phantasm readied herself, taking in a deep breath, making subtle alterations to her body, and planning out her course of action.  She needed the people in there to trust her immediately, and the shield would make that next to impossible.  Same for any of her constructs.  And she couldn't be seen working at Sol's level of strength, people would get the idea she was hiding things... So no overt shifting either.  This is going to be a pain in the ass.

After a moment on the roof of the neighboring building, Phantasm moved.  She broke into a powerful sprint and then lept across the span between the two buildings, shattering the glass as she went through.  Phantasm rolled across the floor popping back up to sprint through the flames surrounding her as she headed for the stairwell.  Still on the same breath of air from when she entered, Phantasm raced up the stairs toward the people trapped in the flames and smoke.

Phantasm's leap put her on the fifteenth floor.  Microscopic slip of the foot at the last minute, otherwise she might have made it to the sixteenth directly.

"... you see that?! ..."
"... can't we get out of ..."
"Everybody stays!  Calm down!  It'll be fine!"
"We're going to die in here!"
"He'll come back for us."
"Fuck you!  I can't breath!"

Her skin crawled and she got a sense that this was potentially a very bad idea.  Cans that once held gasoline were discarded around here, half melted as the fire spread down the tower.  Doors hadn't been installed on the units yet, walls stood half-finished, but there was more than enough debris to conclude that someone had been living here a day or two.  Thunderbird and cheap beer cans, too.  Combined with the cars outside, there was no doubt that at least some of the people upstairs were to blame for the fire.  The missing information was why.  They were clearly surprised that a pair of novas had shown up so fast.  The Latin -- guy was chanting loudly now right over the argument and god would it kill that idiot to be consistent with his pronunciation? -- suggested religion was a factor.  Editing out the sound of the fire was a pain, she'd picked up enough to know there were three powerful voices -- two male, one female -- trying to convince the others to stay.  The woman probably had a revolver, there was a click like she was tapping it on something.

The stairwell was fireproofed appropriately, however.  Apart from choking smoke, it was safe for now.  And she guessed that nothing below the 15th floor was on fire yet.  Which made the people sitting upstairs even dumber.  Thinking fast, Phantasm guessed eight or nine voices.  Their coughs were distinctive enough.  They were all standing around in one of the condo units with a clear shot at the stairwell, so what the hell were they doing?

-

Farther up, Gale forced her way into the building, the winds at her disposal pushing back smoke and flame.  It looked like the fire had begun on the 20th floor alright.  Most of the ceiling had fallen in, and so had a bunch of the floor.  As she brought on the wind, bits of debris were thrown from the tower and an eruption of smoke fired out in all directions.  Driving the oxygen away robbed the heart of the blaze.  And another moment's work chilled the air.  Child's play.  Small fires on the top five floors or so might reignite the structure as a whole, but that would be it.

It didn't take much to guess that this fire was man-made, though.  Her mind tumbling once more over the details, Gale got the same unsettling sense that coming was a very bad idea.  True, no one else would have been able to put out the fire so quickly.  True, baselines weren't much of a threat.  But baselines generally didn't paint a pentagram on the floor of a half-finished condominium or sacrifice goats.  This was very, very out of the ordinary.

As she cleared the air, however, something leapt out of nowhere and slammed straight into her.  Red skin, horns, yellow cat's eyes.  Scales.  Hard to tell, the guy moved fast, nearly as fast as she, and hit like a ton of bricks.  She was bleeding from somewhere too.  Spurs on his hands.

"As righteousness tendeth to life: so he that pursueth evil pursueth it to his own death," he said.  "Do you understand?  Do you understand?"  Her eufiber was torn up.  She replayed the last few seconds in her head: he must have come in through a window, jumped or flown, and another hit like that and she felt certain she could die.  "Do you renounce evil?  Do you?  Tell me now!"

In reply to Suzukaze (msg #37):

"She just has a day pass.  And that has some conditions on it, namely that the attuned bomb inside her head will go off if she tries to take off on us.  Even when she phases, it travels with her, and if it explodes it'll kill her either way.  The wonders of Utopia R&D."  Logan lit a cigarette as he talked, eufiber peeling back to reveal scarred skin as he held the cigarette in his mouth.

"Anyway, we're on a schedule.  The plan for tonight is to set this 'known agent of organized crime' down in the Kraken facility they've got going up here in the great state of Nevada.  While he's getting caught 'sneaking in,' we'll be actually be inside taking a look at how closely Kraken is following Utopia's tech guidelines, and seeing if there's anything useful to steal.  Then we get the hell out of there and leave this jerk to die.  Given the blood on his hands, KHI killbots are actually a pretty merciful death.  Better than I'd give him anyway..."

Logan's conversation tapers off, though it's hard to tell if he's lost in memory, or staring intently at 'kaze to see her reaction.  His eufiber masked even his body language, and the mouth holding his cigarette was a hardened line revealing little.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:01, Thu 17 Feb 2011.

Suzukaze looks saddened when he mentions it is just a day pass. When he mentions the bomb  she just stares at Annette in shocked horror. She listens however to his description of what is to go down during the mission. Her face turns serious though as she looks to Logan...

"Is that all it seems almost too easy. I've waited so long for this. I have no problem doing as you ask. But as I mentioned on New Years I need help. There are three things I want I don't care when or how they come about. One is Annette being free and being on a team with her. The second is I want to put an end to the Assassins except for Void as he can be useful. I especially want Fire's head. The last is I want Shiro returned to me. You talk the wonders of R&D when they make this bomb. They should be able to fix him. Let's get going we're wasting precious time.


She shifts her eufiber so hopefully she is unrecognizable by any surveillance. The black overwhelms the purple. It crawls up her neck and her mask dissolves around her face covering her head.

Here, near the source of the fire, the walls, the ceiling, even the floor, were crumbly in places.  It didn't take much to make them fall apart.  So, of course, when that...whatever he was...slammed into her, she went through several walls before one finally stopped her.  Covered in ash and soot, she tried to play it cool as she got back to her feet.  She had to think fast.  What did this guy want?  Words about righteousness and evil...what was he talking about?  She didn't have a lot of time, and she couldn't take another hit.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
12:24, Today: Gale rolled 2 successes using 5d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 with rolls of 3,2,9,8,1. Wits. Fire demon?.

---

"Ok, big guy, just hold on a second,"  she said, holding her hands up.  The motion served two purposes: to try and let him know she didn't want a fight, and to be ready in case she had to.

Phantasm stopped before charging up the stares, her gut telling her that she needed to think about what was going on.  While not a flashy ability, her instincts had saved her on numerous occassions, and she suspected they were another quantum power that activated when she errupted.  She observed the scene, and listened to the Latin chant that she could barely translate (she was fluent, but the guy was an amazingly bad speaker); she surmised pretty quickly that these guys were probably not innocent victims.  "So much for not scaring the locals..." Phantasm said as she kicked into motion again, her irritation and the stress of the situation manifesting as a glowing green miasma of screaming souls around her.  She shifted her body too, going beyond the minor adaptations to alter her skeleton and musculature, gaining speed, strength and agility.

Phantasm bolted up the stairs and slammed through the door without stopping, spraying pieces of the door across the room.  Hopefully it would provide a distraction while she took in every detail of the room she had barged into.  She was annoyed at the stupidity of these idiots even as she enjoyed the chance to use her abilities, and she planned on informing whoever caused this mess of exactly how irritated she was...

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)

previously activated adaptation, activating multitasking and quickness to get all this done in a round or two, activating shield, shapeshift, and twisting eufiber into old uniform + claws on instinct [watch T2M try and sue over it...]

Shield: You rolled 3 successes using 10d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((5,10,8,6,1,5,10,1,5,5)).
=6

Shapeshift: You rolled 4 successes using 11d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((10,8,2,8,1,2,1,6,4,6,9)).
=8 (go with something simple for this one: str +2, dex +2, armor +3, and perception +1)

Break down the door: You rolled 3 successes using 5d10 with the Target Number system with a target of 7 ((10,7,2,10,6)). +15 for Mega-strength.
=18
quantum use: 8

---

"Welcome to the Nevada Test Site, a division of Kraken Heavy Industries, pilgrim!"

The killbot tour guide is programed with the rough, vocoded equivalent of the vocal mannerisms of John Wayne circa Rio Bravo, which is strange.  It could be worse.  They could have gone with The Conqueror.

"You can call me Chance!  You'll have to keep all hands, feet, and objects inside the crawler at all times.  It's for your own protection!"

The crawler sets off to tour the various sites of interest to tourists.  The blasted sands of Yucca Flat where bots can be seen scooping contaminated soil into dump trucks.  The Storax-Sedan crater.  The freshly refurbished, 1527 foot tall BREN Tower.  There really isn't that much to see, though.  Probably why they did nuclear weapons tests here.

Then comes the highlight of the tour.  The crawler trundles up next to a sizable steel building, one of the few fresh constructions on Jackass Flats that are actually complete.  A network of conveyors shift finely-ground soil out of the building.  The air above its roof shimmers from heat despite the relative coolness of winter in the desert.  The building isn't what the tourists came to see, however.  Right behind it, though, is another finished site, the rocket test range.  A KHI press release several weeks back announced the resumption of work on NASA's 1972 NERVA prototype under the aegis of KHI's Super-NERVA project.  Today is the big day, the day of the test.  A heavily modified Energomash RD-171 engine lies on the test pad.  The engine's four combustion chambers have been replaced with a single transparent chamber made out of a massive monocrystal of corundum.  A bare nuclear reactor glows a dull red within.  The corundum was obviously far too expensive to be used in the production engine (not to mention completely unnecessary), but the scientists thought it desirable to observe matters directly in the prototype.

"Now put on your goggles, pardners.  Believe me, they do something."

At the appointed time, the hafnium-diboride rods are pulled and the reactor goes in an instant from a dull red to a bright blue.  Explosive charges start the turbopumps spinning and liquid hydrogen floods the chamber, cooling the reactor down to the color and brightness of the Sun, before exploding out of the nozzle.  There is no flame, though, at least not initially.  The flame only comes when the 6500 K hydrogen contacts the air.  The noise is tremendous, the crowd is amused, the test is successful.

"Wasn't that fascinating, pardners?"

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
If someone's going to be digging around on site, they might as well have something to work with.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 11:17, Fri 18 Feb 2011.

“Thanks…Dillon” She fidgeted just a bit.  It would be nice to transition between the rolls she tried to play so easily.  Ah…coke.

“I don’t mind being on the proposal or off; just whatever will make it more likely to go through.  The city needs this, and I really want to do anything I can to help.”  She had done her research,  looking into what could be done, and what would be needed, hoping somehow the two would meet.

“With the anti-nova sentiment running rampant, it would be great to have some positive events that are newsworthy.”  She glanced casually around the room, eyes settling on the potted plant, sofa chairs, and comfortable lighting.  It was nice to see that her friends were doing well, and doing well for the baseline community.

“I think the non-profit would be a great way to boost the safety and economy of the region.  I wondered what you thought about having a trauma bay in it though.  It would be a good way to help with some of the violence in the city, as well as boosting interest in the hospitals creation.”

She also wanted very badly to do more with her healing powers, but anything beyond her late-night volunteering/healing could bring a world of trouble.  She had learned that while healing her comrades in the heat of battle could be easily overlooked by the news, a few miraculous healings and she would be faced with a sea of injured, all demanding treatment.  It would wipe her out and possibly destroy her when she had to turn people away.

Shaking herself from her musings, Flare continued, “I’m in and I’ll do whatever I can to help.  Thanks for including me, Dillon, it’s nice to be involved in something that gives back to the world.”

"Ohmygod!"

The door splintered, but compared to Phantasm the people inside were slow to react.  Nine people standing.  Two tied to chairs.  The two in the chairs were tied up and gagged, and Phantasm recognized them as Michaelists from earlier.  The standing figures were starting to have a hard time with the smoke.  Three had their backs to the door -- the ringleaders -- while the other six looked like goth rejects.  It was the t-shirt that gave it away.  I sold my soul to Astaroth ... and all I got was this fucking t-shirt.  These were tools, probably inspired by nova rants and self-indulgent bullshit to get excited with some gasoline and duct tape.

The splinters began to impact the leather jacket of the loudmouth ringleader who kept telling everyone else things were going to be fine.  Before the last splinter hit the ground she could probably kill every one of them.  Only one of them had a gun, and she didn't look trained.  As they turned, Phantasm could read surprise from their expressions.  The ringleader babbling in Latin was more than a bit shocked and started calculating how he could talk his way out of this one, probably because she wasn't the police or the ally that they'd been arguing about.

Time to save the day.  Gale ought to be done with the fire ... though it might be worth finding her and sticking together ASAP.  If someone else set this up, than the two of them might be crashing a party and at risk.

-

The guy was a nova, that much was sure.  And he was referencing the bible.  Reluctant to kill her?  Seeking atonement?  If Gravitas and Dr. Zero were right about nova psychology, he probably thought himself a demon.

Whatever he was, he came on strong.  It took less than a second for him to charge, weave in under her guard and slam his horned head directly into Gale's face.  "Wrong answer."  Things got dark ...

"You were part of something that gave back.  Project Utopia."  Dillon fished around the desk, trying to find paperwork.  He'd never quite gotten the hang of filing.  "Sorry.  I try to do good here, I just don't like to think we wasted our time."

"Okay, so basically you'll want to read this.  Or, if you really, really trust me just pen in how much money you're putting into this thing and sign on the last page."  He got up, checked the windows, locked the door to the office.  Privacy mode.  "I think I know who I could call about getting some trauma doctors.  Just expensive.  UMC has a trauma center, but I think it's the only one between here, LA and Phoenix."

"So ... since I don't want to spend more of my day than I have to on this kind of thing, how's the rest of things?  You said you wanted advice, so ... ?"