Title: Reflections
CoWritten By: Drea Jackman
Email: DreaJackman@Literati.co.uk
Rating: 18 (Overall)
Summary: What really lies behind Eyes Only?
Series: Eyes Only
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters involved. All Dark Angel characters belong to Cameron/Eglee Productions and Fox...the lucky *ahem*!
Dedication: For Cale, who really pushed me to attempt this story.
Archive: Sure, just email me to lemme know where first. Thanks!
Feedback: Hell yeah! It's another of the small pleasures of writing.
Author's Note: Set pre-kisses and confessions in 'Meow'. I do realise that Logan's birthday and the date of the pulse are not as they appear in this fic, but it made for a more interesting story.
________________________________________________________________
"...This has been a Streaming Freedom Video. Peace. Out."
Logan clicked the remote in the general direction of the video camera mounted on the desktop opposite and the red light stopped blinking. Standing up with a muffled sigh he tossed it down on the surface beside the camera and leaned over his computer desk, clicking impatiently on a few keys. After a few minutes he shutdown the screens and walked to the window stiffly.
The suit had been working fine for the past few days and in any other circumstances Logan would've been more than happy, but that wasn't how he felt right now. Truth be known he was aware of his descent into the depths of the depression that had seized him after his hopes of walking again had been dashed. This time it wasn't because he felt worthless or because Max wasn't interested in a relationship with him. It was the opposite.
All the time Logan had known Max, she'd shown him the real her. Everything that she was, everything that Manticore had made her and instilled in her. She had trusted him and shown him her true self and that was only one of the many things Logan knew he loved about her. The truth was that even though Max thought she knew him, the good and true Logan Cale, she really had no idea what he was or what he had been.
Sighing Logan went to the window and stared out over the dim city lights. How had this happened to him? He hadn't been the usual image of a spoilt rich kid with time on his hands. He had genuinely had an interest and ability for writing and being able to envoke the reader's emotions. What had changed him?
The answer was 'Nothing.' The thing was, Logan had never changed. The same altuistic nature and need to do-good, help the helpless had been ever present.
"Blah blah, woof woof..." he said leaning his forehead against the cold glass pane infront of him with a sigh.
It was still in his nature, the same sense of right and wrong and the driving force that compelled him to do something about it. 'Trouble all began there.' he thought. As Logan pulled himself up onto the ledge beside the window he folded one leg under him and let the other hang down towards the floor as he turned his gaze back out over the city he was linked to as more than some anonymous protector. His memories drifted back to when he had been a young man of 20.
***
Typically his family had been on his back about finding a decent job. One worthy of a Cale, or so they'd imagined. This young man was outwardly very different in appearance to his counterpart of almost 12 years. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly parted to the side and trimmed short. He remembered being strangely excited about the coming weekend, even though he should have had his mind on more important things. The prospect of turning 21 was still a big deal to him. Another turning point in life.
He'd gone home and resumed his place at one of a few computers scattered around his office space. As he was pulling up schematics and making slight alterations here and there to the programming behind them his cell had gone off. Answering it quickly he'd propped it by his ear as he continued to type furiously at the keyboard. That had been it, he'd realised it in coming week. The turning point that rivalled that of his 21st year.
Logan heard his own voice clearly in his minds eye. He'd been making the modifications required by the presence over the phone and agreed on their place of action. 'All set.' he'd said with determination. He remembered being so eager to pull this off well, not only because he was the youngest of those involved, but because it was for a genuine cause.
A few months before Logan had been contacted by some anonymous source with information about how all the city's financial records had been compromised. All the details had been altered for the banks gain. People were loosing money little by little through things the bank managed to cover up and hide. Details that no one noticed until pointed out.
It had appealed to Logan's sense of justice and morality to become involved without a second thought. They'd asked for his help as they'd known how capable he was when it came to computers and from the few articles he'd had published they'd known his stance on issues like this. To put it bluntly they'd seen him as a shue-in, an easy recruitment who'd get the job done. What Logan had in mind was far from what actually took place.
The plan was fairly simple. They'd provide the resources for this newly thought up electromagnetic pulse, mostly on Logan's lavish account, and he'd provide them with the computer hacks and programs to administer it. It would only affect certain chosen systems and only activate within the regions of the city. A little payback and justice for those being ripped off by the corrupt and their banks in Seattle. Now the plan was set in motion. It'd go off this weekend, the day before Logan's birthday.
As far as he'd known, the others were set up and in place. Logan had been set up where he'd told Max he'd been when the Pulse hit. Indeed, on a yacht in the harbour. But he had been alone. Computer rigged up he'd received the signal to deliver, so with the best intentions he could've had, that's exactly what he'd done. Within a few seconds his computer had crashed in his lap, the yacht had indeed ran aground as the satnav went out. A strange eery silence had crept over everything surrounding Logan. The memories sent shivers down his spine. It was a feeling of being totally cut off, of being alone.
Eventually he'd made it into dock and went back home, all the way news broadcasts made in flurries on TV screens everywhere that reports were coming in of mass computer failure. Entire networks had been destroyed in the blink of an eye. Logan hadn't known the full extent until he'd gotten home. Alone, he'd turned on the television expecting to hear reports of how financial details were in turmoil and banks throughout Seattle were in havok. That wasn't what he'd found.
***
Logan banged his head softly on the glass pain infront of him repeatedly and cursed himself in a whisper. "Should've known better." Punctuating each sentence with another thump on the window pane. "You did this. You did all this."
***
As the bulletins continued Logan felt sick to his stomach, his legs giving way under him as he sank to the floor. The reports kept coming in. It hadn't been as contained as he'd intended. All systems in Seattle had been effected by the pulse, not merely the intended targets. Within the hour more news was coming on that other states systems had followed. By that evening it had been confirmed that the entire United States were in turmoil, all caused by something scientists had begun to suspect was a triggered electromagnetic pulse.
It had been 2 days since Logan last ate by the time he'd begun to face the aftermath along with family and friends. His 21st birthday had come and gone unrecognised by everyone concerned, even him. Gradually in the coming months he'd continued on just as the victims of the pulse had. As the months turned into years and his life moved on, he'd never spoken of the events leading up to the pulse again, not to anyone.
And in the space of a few years Logan himself had almost managed to forget he'd been involved. The pulse was talked about like any other terrorist act. It had been terrible, people had suffered, but they were all moving on. It was only when a particular piece of information had made it's way to him that Logan had relived that time entirely. In that instant Eyes Only had been born.
Eyes Only. A network of all his contacts and information sources used to help rid the city of it's criminal underbelly. To bring all the corruption to light and have justice maintained in this post-apocalyptic time. Eyes Only didn't only offer that. It served as Logan's repayment to the city. A way to clear a conscience that no matter what, was destined to plague him with guilt and suffering. His way of making amends for the wrongs in his life.
***
Logan felt tears stinging his eyes and blinked them back as he slunk down from the ledge. Glancing round his appartment he looked at all the things his lifestyle could afford, yet none of it ever brought a clear conscience or a feeling of pride for what his life had accomplished. His eyes fell upon his wheelchair, still in use most of the time but he was getting on his way to being free of it. Behind that rested the cane he'd used to help him walk when the damage to his spine had temporarily been reversed a few months before.
A sudden rage boiled up inside Logan as he once again saw what he'd done and what his life had become. Not all of it was regret, but nothing would change the fact that he'd been the cause of so much suffering. With an anger-fuelled strength Logan hurled the chair back against the wall and watched it tip over. Grabbing the cane he struck it several times over before his swing carried him round enough to see his computers. Eyes Only wrapped up in a neat package. One screen shattered into pieces at his hands and was hurled to the floor.
As Logan whirled round looking for something else to attack he took precious few moments to catch his breath and focus on what he was doing. Seconds later came the reason why and he stumbled back toward the window and collapsed against the ledge. Even though he couldn't really feel his legs, he knew the weak feeling that seized his body had claimed those too. Sinking down toward the floor Logan sat with his knees drawn up to his chin, cane still by his side and buried his face in his hands. He may have sworn never to face this again or let it affect him in this way, but Logan broke down into quiet sobs. He'd broken his promise again.
CoWritten By: Drea Jackman
Email: DreaJackman@Literati.co.uk
Rating: 18 (Overall)
Summary: What really lies behind Eyes Only?
Series: Eyes Only
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters involved. All Dark Angel characters belong to Cameron/Eglee Productions and Fox...the lucky *ahem*!
Dedication: For Cale, who really pushed me to attempt this story.
Archive: Sure, just email me to lemme know where first. Thanks!
Feedback: Hell yeah! It's another of the small pleasures of writing.
Author's Note: Set pre-kisses and confessions in 'Meow'. I do realise that Logan's birthday and the date of the pulse are not as they appear in this fic, but it made for a more interesting story.
________________________________________________________________
"...This has been a Streaming Freedom Video. Peace. Out."
Logan clicked the remote in the general direction of the video camera mounted on the desktop opposite and the red light stopped blinking. Standing up with a muffled sigh he tossed it down on the surface beside the camera and leaned over his computer desk, clicking impatiently on a few keys. After a few minutes he shutdown the screens and walked to the window stiffly.
The suit had been working fine for the past few days and in any other circumstances Logan would've been more than happy, but that wasn't how he felt right now. Truth be known he was aware of his descent into the depths of the depression that had seized him after his hopes of walking again had been dashed. This time it wasn't because he felt worthless or because Max wasn't interested in a relationship with him. It was the opposite.
All the time Logan had known Max, she'd shown him the real her. Everything that she was, everything that Manticore had made her and instilled in her. She had trusted him and shown him her true self and that was only one of the many things Logan knew he loved about her. The truth was that even though Max thought she knew him, the good and true Logan Cale, she really had no idea what he was or what he had been.
Sighing Logan went to the window and stared out over the dim city lights. How had this happened to him? He hadn't been the usual image of a spoilt rich kid with time on his hands. He had genuinely had an interest and ability for writing and being able to envoke the reader's emotions. What had changed him?
The answer was 'Nothing.' The thing was, Logan had never changed. The same altuistic nature and need to do-good, help the helpless had been ever present.
"Blah blah, woof woof..." he said leaning his forehead against the cold glass pane infront of him with a sigh.
It was still in his nature, the same sense of right and wrong and the driving force that compelled him to do something about it. 'Trouble all began there.' he thought. As Logan pulled himself up onto the ledge beside the window he folded one leg under him and let the other hang down towards the floor as he turned his gaze back out over the city he was linked to as more than some anonymous protector. His memories drifted back to when he had been a young man of 20.
***
Typically his family had been on his back about finding a decent job. One worthy of a Cale, or so they'd imagined. This young man was outwardly very different in appearance to his counterpart of almost 12 years. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly parted to the side and trimmed short. He remembered being strangely excited about the coming weekend, even though he should have had his mind on more important things. The prospect of turning 21 was still a big deal to him. Another turning point in life.
He'd gone home and resumed his place at one of a few computers scattered around his office space. As he was pulling up schematics and making slight alterations here and there to the programming behind them his cell had gone off. Answering it quickly he'd propped it by his ear as he continued to type furiously at the keyboard. That had been it, he'd realised it in coming week. The turning point that rivalled that of his 21st year.
Logan heard his own voice clearly in his minds eye. He'd been making the modifications required by the presence over the phone and agreed on their place of action. 'All set.' he'd said with determination. He remembered being so eager to pull this off well, not only because he was the youngest of those involved, but because it was for a genuine cause.
A few months before Logan had been contacted by some anonymous source with information about how all the city's financial records had been compromised. All the details had been altered for the banks gain. People were loosing money little by little through things the bank managed to cover up and hide. Details that no one noticed until pointed out.
It had appealed to Logan's sense of justice and morality to become involved without a second thought. They'd asked for his help as they'd known how capable he was when it came to computers and from the few articles he'd had published they'd known his stance on issues like this. To put it bluntly they'd seen him as a shue-in, an easy recruitment who'd get the job done. What Logan had in mind was far from what actually took place.
The plan was fairly simple. They'd provide the resources for this newly thought up electromagnetic pulse, mostly on Logan's lavish account, and he'd provide them with the computer hacks and programs to administer it. It would only affect certain chosen systems and only activate within the regions of the city. A little payback and justice for those being ripped off by the corrupt and their banks in Seattle. Now the plan was set in motion. It'd go off this weekend, the day before Logan's birthday.
As far as he'd known, the others were set up and in place. Logan had been set up where he'd told Max he'd been when the Pulse hit. Indeed, on a yacht in the harbour. But he had been alone. Computer rigged up he'd received the signal to deliver, so with the best intentions he could've had, that's exactly what he'd done. Within a few seconds his computer had crashed in his lap, the yacht had indeed ran aground as the satnav went out. A strange eery silence had crept over everything surrounding Logan. The memories sent shivers down his spine. It was a feeling of being totally cut off, of being alone.
Eventually he'd made it into dock and went back home, all the way news broadcasts made in flurries on TV screens everywhere that reports were coming in of mass computer failure. Entire networks had been destroyed in the blink of an eye. Logan hadn't known the full extent until he'd gotten home. Alone, he'd turned on the television expecting to hear reports of how financial details were in turmoil and banks throughout Seattle were in havok. That wasn't what he'd found.
***
Logan banged his head softly on the glass pain infront of him repeatedly and cursed himself in a whisper. "Should've known better." Punctuating each sentence with another thump on the window pane. "You did this. You did all this."
***
As the bulletins continued Logan felt sick to his stomach, his legs giving way under him as he sank to the floor. The reports kept coming in. It hadn't been as contained as he'd intended. All systems in Seattle had been effected by the pulse, not merely the intended targets. Within the hour more news was coming on that other states systems had followed. By that evening it had been confirmed that the entire United States were in turmoil, all caused by something scientists had begun to suspect was a triggered electromagnetic pulse.
It had been 2 days since Logan last ate by the time he'd begun to face the aftermath along with family and friends. His 21st birthday had come and gone unrecognised by everyone concerned, even him. Gradually in the coming months he'd continued on just as the victims of the pulse had. As the months turned into years and his life moved on, he'd never spoken of the events leading up to the pulse again, not to anyone.
And in the space of a few years Logan himself had almost managed to forget he'd been involved. The pulse was talked about like any other terrorist act. It had been terrible, people had suffered, but they were all moving on. It was only when a particular piece of information had made it's way to him that Logan had relived that time entirely. In that instant Eyes Only had been born.
Eyes Only. A network of all his contacts and information sources used to help rid the city of it's criminal underbelly. To bring all the corruption to light and have justice maintained in this post-apocalyptic time. Eyes Only didn't only offer that. It served as Logan's repayment to the city. A way to clear a conscience that no matter what, was destined to plague him with guilt and suffering. His way of making amends for the wrongs in his life.
***
Logan felt tears stinging his eyes and blinked them back as he slunk down from the ledge. Glancing round his appartment he looked at all the things his lifestyle could afford, yet none of it ever brought a clear conscience or a feeling of pride for what his life had accomplished. His eyes fell upon his wheelchair, still in use most of the time but he was getting on his way to being free of it. Behind that rested the cane he'd used to help him walk when the damage to his spine had temporarily been reversed a few months before.
A sudden rage boiled up inside Logan as he once again saw what he'd done and what his life had become. Not all of it was regret, but nothing would change the fact that he'd been the cause of so much suffering. With an anger-fuelled strength Logan hurled the chair back against the wall and watched it tip over. Grabbing the cane he struck it several times over before his swing carried him round enough to see his computers. Eyes Only wrapped up in a neat package. One screen shattered into pieces at his hands and was hurled to the floor.
As Logan whirled round looking for something else to attack he took precious few moments to catch his breath and focus on what he was doing. Seconds later came the reason why and he stumbled back toward the window and collapsed against the ledge. Even though he couldn't really feel his legs, he knew the weak feeling that seized his body had claimed those too. Sinking down toward the floor Logan sat with his knees drawn up to his chin, cane still by his side and buried his face in his hands. He may have sworn never to face this again or let it affect him in this way, but Logan broke down into quiet sobs. He'd broken his promise again.