Author's Note: Howdy and thank you so much for dropping by!

Just a fair warning, this is going to be an Alternate Universe fic. The first thing you'll probably notice is that this is going to be a mixture of canon characters and original ones, all of whom I hope I can pull of believably enough to do them justice. The ultimate goal, for now, is the intertwine the plot lines of RE2 and RE3 together, perhaps along with bits and pieces of other media that takes place during this time. Most of it I'll just be flat out ignoring because it's bad (Resident Evil: Outbreak series, I'm looking at you) but there's always some diamonds hidden in the rough and there may be the occasional reference (or shot taken) here and there. I'm working to create a solid, concrete story that combines all the best elements of every piece of media without contradicting or retconning one another.

So if you find yourself asking, "hey, I thought that this thing was retconned at this point?" you're seeing the pieces I thought were worth keeping! In my opinion, some of the stuff they did later on was less impressive, interesting or believable than what had been established at an earlier point. Additionally, certain events may happen in different order than your used to to account for continuity.

Raccoon City - S.T.A.R.S. Office
July 25, 1998
6:19 AM
Saturday

S.T.A.R.S. Charlie Team Captain Tori Hitoshi sat at her desk, absentmindedly twirling a custom RPD pen around. At twenty-eight years old, she was by far the youngest among the trio of Captains of the S.T.A.R.S. teams by a full decade, a fact she was all too aware of. She knew about the whispers behind her back from officers on the Raccoon City Police Department. She had been dealing with this kind of stuff all her life; from the school yard where she knocked boy's teeth out when they smart mouthed her, to her time in the Army when other soldiers would snicker as she passed. All the way up to here in the police department of Raccoon City. It never changed and she had accepted that a long time ago.

Being part Japanese probably didn't help matters either. She was no smaller than any other woman, but it was her pale skin and contrasting black hair, combined with her almond shaped eyes and bright red lips that earned her extra attention. More than once she had heard some asshole whisper some kind of racial slur under their breath when they thought she couldn't hear them or had overhead someone refer to her as "exotic." Whatever the hell that meant. However, these kinds of people were either much fewer in number or much more secretive about their shitty opinions.

None of that was the problem though. No, instead, Tori found herself fretting over the fact that both Alpha and Bravo Teams were still MIA. It had been almost ten hours since Alpha Team had gone into the Arklay Mountains to find and assist Bravo Team, who had gone missing more than twenty-four hours earlier. Captain Wesker and Marini were exceptional men who she deeply respected; neither of them judged her for her race or her sex. Whatever was going on in those mountains, it couldn't be good if neither one of them had taken control and established communication with the rest of the RPD by now. It wasn't an optimistic thought, but it was realistic and logical.

And absolutely horrifying.

The other members of S.T.A.R.S. were Tori's comrades, and more importantly, her friends. The cannibal murders plaguing the city as of late were bad enough, but now there was the very real possibility that these murders had directly affected Alpha and Bravo Teams. She hadn't been able to sleep last night, worried about the other S.T.A.R.S. members too much, anxious for news. She was probably overthinking things. In just a few minutes, Captain Wesker would radio in and tell them they had found and apprehended the murderers after an all night hunt, then she would feel absolutely silly for worrying so much. She'd offer to buy the first round of drinks the next time they all went out, too.

It was a nice thought, but it wasn't one Tori could bring herself to believe. Something in the back of her mind was clawing at her, telling her something was seriously wrong. If the military had taught her anything, it was that these feelings shouldn't be ignored. Burton, Redfield and Valentine also had military experience and she only hoped they embraced those gut feelings as much as she did.

Sighing, Tori set the pen down and reached up with her free hand, tucking loose strands of hair back behind her left ear. If either Alpha or Bravo Team didn't report in within the next twenty minutes, she and Charlie Team - along with another detachment of ten or so other officers - were going to go gear up with the best equipment the RPD had to offer and head into the Arklay Mountains to investigate. If they even so much as smelled a hint of trouble, she was going to demand that Chief Irons contact the FBI and insist that they become involved with this whole situation.

If that didn't work, she could ask Dennis directly. Surely he had somebody he could contact. If it came down to it, she supposed she would have to swallow her pride and make some calls of her own. She wasn't ready to make undeserved apologies to people she had never wanted to speak to again, but if she had to pick between that and leaving her comrades out to dry, the choice had already been made.

The door to the S.T.A.R.S. office opened, derailing Tori's train of thought. She turned in her chair just in time to see Thomas Denver, the second youngest member of S.T.A.R.S. behind the newbie Rebecca Chambers, walking through the door. He had a large pink box in his hands, bunch of paper coffee cups stacked on top of that and a half-eaten bear claw stuffed in his mouth. She stood up and walked over to him to help. She began taking the coffee cups from him, flashing him a smile, thankful for his thoughtfulness.

Thomas grinned through the bear claw at her, letting out a muffled shriek as he bit too hard into it and sent the uneaten half tumbling to the floor. As he groaned and picked his ruined pastry up off the ground, Tori set the cups aside. Except for the that had her name hastily scribbled on the side in black marker.

"Good morning, Captain." Thomas said cheerfully, stepping away from the trash can. "How long've you been here?"

"Mm," Tori sipped at her coffee. "A while. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come here and wait. Still no word, but it's only been an hour since I arrived."

Thomas frowned and rubbed at his brown-red, buzz cut hair. "Sheesh, Captain. I'm worried too, but I don't think not sleeping is gonna help the other S.T.A.R.S. too much."

Tori shrugged her shoulders. "Too late to do anything about it now. Has anyone else showed up yet?"

"Dewart was pulling into the driveway as I was walking through the front doors. Miguel's in the lobby, being real chatty with that cute, new secretary girl in the lobby. Dennis is down stairs doing," Thomas paused, scrunching his lips. "Something that looked important but hey, he can make a stroll to his car look important, so I dunno. Kawee's a no-show so far."

Yeah, that figures. She thought to herself. Kawee had always been that way, late to anything and everything, even something as important as a job. Tori simply nodded and took another drink of the coffee. It was sweeter than she would have liked, but she didn't say anything. She thought about Alpha and Bravo and her own team.

Marion Dewart was a fifty-five year old Vietnam veteran and was probably the only other person in the RPD who could match Barry Burton's knowledge of firearms. Miguel Wade was an excellent pilot who had started off working for a news casting agency, but switched to freelance work before joining the S.T.A.R.S. Dennis Howell used to work for the FBI and had resigned for reasons he either didn't, or couldn't, talk about. Magaskawee Ballard, better known as Kawee, had been Tori's friend since grade school and knew more about computers and electronics then anybody else she knew. Lastly, there was Thomas Denver himself, who could hit a target dead center with a 9mm pistol, one-handed, from forty yards away.

This was S.T.A.R.S. Charlie Team.

Not necessarily any better or worse than the others, the same as the others weren't any better or worse than Charlie. They simply all had a different set of skills which they brought to the table.

Tori glanced down at her watch. It was 6:25. Five more minutes without word and they were going to start gearing up. As Thomas picked up his own coffee cup, Marion came through the door. His old face was hard, chin decorated with salt and pepper scruff. He had a Colt .45, the M1911 he had used during his tour, holstered under his left arm instead of the customized Beretta 92, the Samurai Edge, most of the other S.T.A.R.S. used. He scoffed at the idea of using a "piss-ant round" like a 9mm. Stern and gruff, Marion was, for all intents and purposes, her second-in-command.

With him was Miguel, looking mildly disgruntled. Marion had that effect on people, especially when you prioritized women over your career. She could imagine Marion strolling in, spotting Miguel at the check-in desk flirting with the secretary, and loudly clearing his throat to get the pilot to pay attention.

"Mornin', fellas!" Thomas greeted happily.

"Good morning, Miguel, Marion." Tori greeted him as well. She preferred a first name basis with her team and encouraged them to do the same when they weren't on the field. But she alone was probably the only person in S.T.A.R.S. who could use the big guy's first name.

"Hey," Miguel waved disinterestedly and strolled over to the snacks Thomas had brought.

"Mornin'," was Marion's simple reply, voice thick with that oh-so-typical Southern drawl. "Any word from the others yet?"

Tori shook her head.

"Afraid not," she informed him. "Radio's been silent since last night..."

"Well, shit. That's the pits." Miguel commented, a paper cup in one hand and a doughnut in the other.

Marion sighed deeply in agreement and stepped past them, pausing to examine the coffee before picking the one up that had his name on it.

"Somethin' ain't right about all'a this," Marion began. "I've got'a bad feelin' in my gut. Ain't felt somethin' like this since..." He trailed off, shaking his head, and took a drink of his coffee. Grimacing, he pulled the cup away from his mouth. "On second thought, maybe it's jus' the coffee."

Thomas laughed and Miguel smirked, but Tori couldn't bring herself to enjoy the humor. She appreciated the fact that she wasn't the only one with that dark cloud looming over though, and she wasn't surprised it was Marion who shared that feeling.

"Ballard 'ad better get here fast." Marion said, stealing a glance at the clock on the wall. "Seems like we're goin' on that rescue mission after all, and I for one would like to get out there sooner rather than later."

Tori nodded. "Getting Irons to give us clearance for this was like pulling fucking teeth." She rolled her eyes. "I swear if he tries to give us any more hell over this, I'm gonna put my foot so far up his fatass, he'll be-"

"-ome in! Our ETA is five minutes!" Brad Vickers voice erupted loudly the com in the back of the room. "We've got causalities and injured! We need a medical team on the roof when we get there! I repeat, we've got causalities and injured and we-"

Tori felt her heart drop into her stomach when she heard the word "causalities." Marion clenched his teeth; Thomas had lost his goofy expression and wore a much more, uncharacteristically serious one; Miguel had already set down his half-eaten breakfast down on the nearest desk. In unison, they turned and made their way our of the S.T.A.R.S. office, down the hallway and toward the helipad.

The remaining S.T.A.R.S. members, barring Rebecca and Jill - who were resting and recovering at Raccoon General Hospital due to severe sleep deprivation, and minor lacerations to the leg and side respectively - were gathered in the S.T.A.R.S. office room. Chris's clothes were ragged, with bruises and scratches on his arms and face, while Barry just looked tired and miserable. They both had that same look in their eyes, like they had just seen too much in one night. Brad on the other hand looked nervous and fidgety, more so than normal. The fact that he kept his hand close to his gun made Tori nervous for more than one reason.

Chief Irons was also in the room, having been requested personally by the S.T.A.R.S. to make an appearance. Despite the fact that several of the other S.T.A.R.S. members were missing - dead, according to Chris - Irons looked far more pissed than sympathetic or even concerned. For once, Tori couldn't really bring herself to blame the guy.

It had been a little over an hour since what remained of Alpha and Bravo returned. Rebecca had nearly collapsed while stepping off the helicopter and despite Jill's protests, she was given medical attention. Chris, Barry and Brad took a short few minutes to eat and get something to drink, then desperately called Chief Irons and the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. up into the office where they could explain in private about their night.

And they had one hell of a story to tell.

Zombies. Man-sized lizard monsters. A giant with a talon for a hand. The t-Virus. Umbrella Incorporated being a producer of weapons of mass destruction. The S.T.A.R.S. members being used for combat testing on these things called B.O.W.s. Captain Wesker's betrayal and subsequent death at the hands - quite literally - of the creature he had released to kill the survivors. It all sounded like the plot of a horror movie.

Everyone in the room looked skeptical. Marion was scowling, arms crossed over his chest. Dennis was leaning against a desk, a neutral mask on his face, hiding his emotions. Thomas looked somewhere between disturbed and concerned. Kawee - who had shown up just in time to see the chopper touch down - was chewing her bottom lip eagerly, twirling a lock of hair on her finger, a habit she'd had since she was just a little girl. Miguel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, head turned away from the remaining Alpha Team members. Tori was staring at the duo, trying to figure out whether they really believed their own words or not.

Chief Irons, meanwhile, looked absolutely livid.

"And you really expect us to believe that load of crap?" He asked with a deep scowl.

"Yes." Chris replied firmly. "I do."

"Ha!" The Chief threw his arms up. "Fucking preposterous! I won't hear any more of this wild tale! You're all going to go to undergo a psyche evaluation ASAP."

"But Chief, we-" Chris began, but Irons held up a hand to silence him.

"That's an order." The Chief said between clenched teeth. "Maybe whatever the hell happened out that was horrific, but what you're telling me is beyond real. I'd sooner believe that it's a fuckin' voodoo cult than this horseshit. I'm going to go check in with the psyche ward, and you will go see them and have a proper evaluation done immediately or I'll discharge every fuckin' one of you who went on that mission from service!" To emphasis his point, Irons swung both his arms outwards in slicing motions.

Chris gritted his teeth, but he didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say.

Without another word, Irons turned and stormed toward the S.T.A.R.S. office door. He yanked it open and walked out, slamming it behind him. Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shuddering from the anger he must have been feeling. Barry sighed and shook his head, rubbing at his beard.

"Should've known better than to think they'd believe us, Chris." Barry said.

"It's the truth, dammit!" Chris shouted and slammed his fist on the desk. "Why would we make something like this up?! Come on, Charlie Team, you believe us, right?"

The other members of S.T.A.R.S. looked as skeptical as Tori felt. Even so, she found herself believing it was even less likely that they were making the story up. Chris was right. What did they possibly gain from spouting such nonsense? Well, a psyche evaluation, obviously. At best becoming the laughing stock of the police department, hell, maybe even the whole city. At worst, it would cost them their careers.

And possibly earn them a one-way ticket to the Happy House... Tori thought to herself.

"You've got to look at things from our perspective, Redfield." Dennis spoke up and pulled his silver sunglasses off. Underneath them, a pair of beautiful, bright blue eyes were hidden, which contrasted his dark skin. He met Chris's stare, keeping that same neutral disposition. "Your story is... extreme," he put it as nicely as possible, "and you have no proof, outside of the missing S.T.A.R.S. members. Now, if you'd brought back some notes, or perhaps a sample of this, er... what did you call it? t-Virus?"

Chris nodded.

"t-Virus," Dennis repeated. "We might be able to take these accusations seriously and do some serious investigating of Umbrella, but it's just not possible without concrete evidence."

"Good to know the team has our back," Chris said sarcastically with a scowl.

Dennis simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I believe 'em." Came the unexpected voice of Marion, causing everyone in the room to turn toward him. The older man shook his head. "I don't want to. Y'all sound crazy as hell, an' common sense is screamin' at me for sayin' it, but... well, I believe you. The only reason bein' is that the other option is that you're lyin' and I damn well refuse to believe that. The S.T.A.R.S. I know would never lie about somethin' this serious and one clusterfuck of a night ain't about to change that."

Both Chris and Barry smiled, glad that at least someone believed them. Tori smiled, too. Next to Barry, Marion was the gruffest looking man in the entire S.T.A.R.S. unit, but they both were the definition of "don't judge a book by it's cover." Barry was a family man, through and through, and Marion only liked to act tough due to his background as a Marine. He was actually a very sweet and thoughtful man, one who cared very deeply for his comrades. And if his words were anything to go by, he was one to stand by them, even if the odds weren't in their favor.

Semper fi, indeed. She thought.

...and he's right.

"I agree." Tori said, nodding. "Marion's right. You guys are our comrades and friends. It's an unbelievable story, but..." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. If you say it happened, then it had to have happened. Irons may be an asshole, but he's not completely unreasonable. After you guys get your psyche evaluation done, we'll all march into his office and demand a sweep of the Arklay Mountains. I mean, he can't fire us all, right? He needs the S.T.A.R.S., after all."

Dennis put his sunglasses back on, still looking indifferent. Miguel gave an noncommittal shrug, but Thomas and Kawee appeared more relaxed now, following their teammates lead.

Soon a couple of officers came to collect Chris, Barry and Brad for their psyche evaluations. Tori frowned, crossing her arms. As soon as they passed - which she was sure they would - and got back, they go see Irons and continue the investigation. Tori was confident in them, but there was still a rational part of her brain that questioned their claims. Every member of S.T.A.R.S. Charlie Team was standing around, chatting and waiting; except Dennis, that was. Instead, he was walking out the door.

"Dennis?" Tori asked, stepping out after him. "Where're you going?"

"Out." He replied, pausing to look back at her. Reserved as always.

"What about the others? We need to wait for them and-"

"No." Dennis cut her off, then looked around to make sure nobody else was nearby. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You're free to tell Irons I'm supporting the rest of you, but I don't trust him. I get the feeling we're going to be denied any further investigations, especially against a company like Umbrella. Don't forget that this town was basically founded by them, Tori. I may only be a police officer now, but I did work for the government. I have connections. I'm going to call in a few favors."

Tori blinked. "I thought you didn't believe them."

"I never said that," Dennis corrected her. "I simply said they didn't have any evidence. If there's any truth to what they're saying, I'm sure I can find something."

"I see." Tori nodded her head slowly. "Thanks, Dennis."

"Yeah," he stepped back and turned around. "Don't mention it."

It was subtle, but Tori understood. Dennis walked forward again and it was impossible to tell he had anything important to do, from his pace to his body language. Given his background, it wasn't surprising, she supposed.

For the first time since this whole thing had started, especially two days ago when Bravo Team departed, Tori felt a sense of relief. It seemed that they were finally going to get to the bottom of this investigation. As much as it pained here to think that Frost, Enrico, Sullivan, Aiken, Speyer and Dewey were dead, the fact that their deaths would serve to close this case was a very small consolation and she was sure they would feel the same.

And then there was Wesker. Was he really dead? And a traitor, on top of that. According to Chris and Barry, the man she had once had much respect and admiration for was actually an undercover agent who worked for Umbrella and had purposely led the other members of S.T.A.R.S. to their deaths. She didn't want to believe it, but the look in Barry's eyes when he spoke about Wesker had lied about holding his family hostage wasn't something someone like Barry Burton could fake.

Whatever had gone on in that mansion, the surviving S.T.A.R.S. members were not the same people now that they had been when they had left.

Regardless, they were home now. The S.T.A.R.S. were a team and a team stuck together no matter what. Whatever happened at that mansion, they were going to get to the bottom of it. They were the S.T.A.R.S. after all, the good guys.

And good guys always won.

Raccoon City [Outskirts] - Underground Umbrella Facility
July 26, 1998
8:24 AM
Saturday

"I want the problem taken care of, Irons."

On the other side of the phone there was silence. William Birkin waited impatiently, drumming his fingers against the top of his desk. Finally the police chief let out a frustrated breath.

"I can't just have 'em killed, ya know." Irons said.

"That's not what I'm suggesting." Birkin replied, although truth be told, that would be the safest course of action. The fact that the S.T.A.R.S. had managed to survive was miraculous and more importantly, dangerous to Umbrella. It would have been so much easier if they were out of the picture, but that was impossible. It would stir up too much attention to have them executed after their bold declarations. Right now they were just crazy; if they turned up dead, they'd be martyrs to a federal investigation. "However, you are in-charge. You're the chief of the Raccoon City Police Department and their fate lies in your hands." Birkin explained, knowing how to coax Irons along.

Brian Irons was an all too eager idiot. He hungrily lined his pockets with Umbrella's bribes but he was terrified of being exposed. Ordinarily, Irons was at least a half-competent official, but that underlying fear made him clumsy in situations like these. When push came to shove, Irons had a tendency to buckle under the pressure and it always fell upon Birkin to take his hand like the fat fucking child he was and guide him. Every time, like clockwork, to the point that he just ended up rehashing a different variant of the same old bullshit. It was irritating and so far beneath the scientist, it made him feel physically ill.

"You have an entire police department at your immediate disposal and if you need anything more, I'm only one phone call away." Birkin recited. "Not that you'll need it. You're smart, Irons. We both know this."

Irons grunted on the other end and Birkin could hear him smiling. That irritation turned to frustration and he tightened his grip on the phone. If the chief were standing in front of him, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from smashing the thing against his face. Still, Birkin gritted his teeth and continued. "You're smart, you're resourceful, you're in-charge. Killing the S.T.A.R.S. isn't necessary-" For now. "-but barring them from any further investigations is."

"Right." Irons said and took another deep breath. "Alright. I already told them they're getting a psychological evaluation." Another pause. "I guess I'll have some of my guys keep tabs on 'em until I can come up with a better plan."

"Perfect." Birkin said, keeping his tone pleasant despite himself.

Glancing over to his side, he noticed Annette standing close by. She looked tired, her hair drawn back into a ponytail, and a stack of research papers in her hand. He nodded his head at her and she smiled.

"Alright Irons, I have some business to attend to. Keep me updated. Otherwise, Annette or I will get in touch with you again as soon as possible." And without waiting for a response, he hung up the phone.

As soon as he was off the phone, an instant relief washed over him. Birkin truly despised Irons from the depths of his core. The man was asinine and, worse yet, a liability. When he finally became an executive member of the board, his first priority was dealing with Irons. The plan had been to have Albert Wesker replace him as chief - outside of Annette, Wesker was probably the only person whom Birkin truly considered a friend - but now that was out of the question. Wesker was dead, murdered by the T-002.

"You were supposed to dispose of it, you idiot..." He murmured to himself, feeling his stomach tighten.

A hand touched his shoulder and Annette was by his side. "William," she said his name softly. "I'm sorry."

Birkin turned fully toward his wife and smiled at her. He truly loved her, very dearly. Even after the frustration of dealing with Irons and the sudden onset of pain that was the loss of Wesker, he felt more at ease with her nearby. She had that effect on him. No matter how deep he descended down into the pit of despair, she was the rope he needed to climb out.

"It's alright, my dear." Birkin said. It wasn't, but he didn't have time to dwell on the it for too long. He stroked her cheek with one hand, very gently, tenderly. The other reached down and grasped at the papers she had brought him. He kissed her forehead and took the papers from her, sighing as he lifted them to read. Wesker may have died, but it wouldn't be for nothing. All of the information he had gathered prior to entering the lowest depths of lab where he met his ultimate fate was in Birkin's hands.

His expression harder. Every piece of data from the mountain facility coupled with the data Wesker had procured. It was a lot to work with. Shoving his feelings aside, Birkin turned and set the papers down, shuffling them and laying them out over his desk. Annette understood and stood by his side, joining him.

Irons' incompetence didn't matter. Wesker's death didn't matter. The S.T.A.R.S. survival didn't matter. His desire to hold his wife and allow himself a break didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the data and how he could use it to achieve his goals; the completion of the G-virus, the rise to executive, the promise of a better life.

Birkin's eyes traversed the pages in front of him as he shut his emotions down inside of him, like he always did when he worked. This work was all that stood between him and all he ever wanted.

And there was a lot of work to do.

Author's Note: Howdy there again! Now, when I introduce big pieces of information like this, I'll try to make little notes at the bottoms of the chapters to explain them a bit more.

Charlie Team is the newest addition to S.T.A.R.S., who, seeing how well S.T.A.R.S. has been doing over the past few years, hope to eventually expand into a full-fledged agency (ala the Perryverse S.T.A.R.S.) but... well, we all know how that turns out. Compared to Alpha and Bravo Team, they're a bit more racially diverse; Tori is half Japanese, half Caucasian, Kawee is a full-blooded Native American, Dennis is African-American, Miguel is half Caucasian, half Mexican, while Thomas and Marion are both Caucasian.

Their positions and roles (and ages) are as follows:

Tori Hitoshi - 28 - Team Captain - Charlie Leader, co-pilot
Thomas Denver - 19 - Pointman - Sharpshooter
Marion Dewart - 55 - Backup Man - Sharpshooter, weapons expert
Dennis Howell - 33 - Omni Man - Investigative expert
Magaskawee "Kawee" Ballard - Rear Security - 25 - Communications expert, computer expert
Miguel Wade - 27 - Rear Security - Pilot, maintenance expert, navigation expert