The Dark Universe Series: Dark Beginnings

A Jeff hell-bent on cornering the world's markets, a Penny as you've never seen her before, and a Scott with his own agenda. It must be the Dark Universe Series.

This reprehensible little number came out of a recent discussion thread on TIWF, and as soon as I saw it the bunny bit hard. Its teeth have been lodged in my posterior since. So here it is. These are the Tracys, but not as you know them. Well, not quite. Well, okay then, I admit it. They're really just my usual AU, but a bit AUer.

Rating: M.

Warnings:

I am aware that there are several potentially serious and highly sensitive topics contained within this story. All of them are treated in the worst possible taste. If you're under age, or of a delicate disposition, or have no sense of sick, degraded humour, this is not for you.

More warnings:

Sex and drugs and rock and roll, murder and mayhem, swearing (goes without saying), mental health issues, and a nice bit of BDSM thrown in for good measure (avoid Chapter 5 if you don't like the latter, the story works pretty well without it….oi! You! Yes – you. I can see you, about to head for the drop-down menu. Read the other chapters first. They're quite short and it'll make a lot more sense.).

Actually, most of it's pretty lame.

Really.

Just don't let your Aunt Maisie loose on it.

…

Dark Beginnings

Jeff

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you – Jefferson Tracy."

There was a hail of applause. Jeff glanced around the sea of smiling faces, seeing nothing but sharks.

"Thank you, Tony." He grasped the microphone firmly. "I'm delighted to confirm the merger of the Tracy Corporation with Kanasaki enterprises. As of today Tracy Corp represents the largest engineering company in the world. Our first assurance will be to the workers of Kanasaki; our aim is to protect jobs – outside a few senior management posts, for course," he allowed himself a brief chuckle. "Gentlemen of the press – ladies and gentlemen, sorry – time for a couple of questions…yes, you…" he squinted at a name-badge, "…Andrew, is it?"

"There are rumors you'll be creaming off Kanasaki's best scientists for the Tracy Corporation design mill, Mr Tracy. Can you shed any light on that?"

"We aim to make this period of transition as smooth as possible. Of course there'll be some cross-fertilization between the two companies. While we wouldn't force anyone to relocate, I'm sure you'll see the benefits in housing some of the world's greatest minds under one roof, so to speak, and….er, yes…" Jeff pointed to another journalist.

"Robert Banyan, New York Times. Isn't it true that your hostile takeover of Kanasaki means you've achieved a virtual monopoly over large-scale engineering projects worldwide?"

Jeff smirked faintly. "This was a negotiated merger, pure and simple. And we don't like the word 'monopoly', Bob. Healthy competition is good for a capitalist economy, we all know that. There are plenty of companies out there."

"But you own them all under one guise or another, don't you Mr Tracy? Isn't it true that you've systematically gobbled up the oppos…."

"I'd like to emphasize that Tracy Corp is a community-focused company. We've engaged in local engineering projects all over the world for the benefit of those communities. We've brought water to the Sudan. We created the Saudi flood defenses. We're a company that likes to give something back."

"So there was absolutely no substance to the allegation that you were offered lucrative oil contracts in return for…"

"None whatsoever," Jeff said emphatically. "Who is this asshole?" he asided to Tony Marchant. He was careful to put his hand over the microphone. Once bitten.

Marchant stepped smoothly up. "I'm sure you'll all understand that we've all had a very long twenty-four hours. I'm way past my bed-time." He yawned dramatically, and waited for the polite chuckle to die down. "I'll be glad to arrange a full statement from our Press Officer at a later date. For now – thank you all for waiting."

He turned to find Jeff already walking away.

Later they shared a bottle of Bollinger in the old man's office. Actually that wasn't true. Jeff rarely shared anything. They had a bottle apiece.

"You realize Kanasaki's CEO will probably deck himself, don't you?" Marchant observed.

"If these people insist on clinging to outmoded honor codes that's hardly my fault," Jeff growled morosely.

Marchant glanced sharply at him. Drink always made the magnate gloomy. "What's eating you, Jeff?"

"They hate me," he said morosely.

"You're successful. You can't be successful without making enemies."

"Once in a while it would be nice to make a few friends too."

"I'm your friend."

"You don't count," Jeff said sharply. "Besides, do you think I don't know you'd stab me in the back in an instant if it suited you? No. We have to do something about our corporate image."

Marchant eased his feet onto the four hundred thousand dollar desk and took a swig directly from the bottle. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Something that will capture the public imagination. What does the public want, Tony?"

Marchant stretched back. "Heroes. Preferably superheroes. How do you look in spandex?"

Jeff snorted. "Be serious."

"I'm perfectly serious. If you were a Tony Stark or a Bruce Wayne or a Warren Worthington they'd love you."

Jeff's brow furrowed. "Tony who?"

"Comic book heroes." He chuckled and tapped his head. "Knowledge courtesy of a mis-spent youth. They all ran fantastically successful companies in their spare time – nay, in their sleep - and made indecent amounts of money with which to finance their selfless lifestyle. The rest of the time they rescued damsels in distress, battled the bad guys, and caught the public imagination." He leant his head back and dribbled champagne direct from the bottle into his open mouth. "The public wants superheroes."

"Get real, Tony."

Marchant grinned. "Real is that your reputation is beyond redemption, Jeff."

Jeff poured himself another glass. "They rescued people?"

"In distress. Damsels."

"We could rescue people."

Marchant snorted champagne out through his nose. Then he sat up straight. "Say - maybe it could be arranged. We fire one of the buildings…" he glanced about… "not this one – too many irrespace…irrelace…priceless works of art – one of the downtown warehouses maybe. We could arrange for you to be visiting. You could carry out one of the female employees. We could make sure the press were there…."

Jeff shook his head dismissively. "I was thinking big."

"You could carry two people."

"Stop pissing around, Tony. I'm thinking."

Marchant grinned. There was a brief pause.

"How about a really high profile international rescue outfit? They swing in, save a lot of lives. A lot of lives," Jeff stared off into the half-distance. His hand raised and painted an imaginary landscape. "Lots of mystery. Lots of press interest. Who are these gallant men that swoop in and rescue the distressed without a thought for their own safety? There are no names, no faces. They're masked or disguised in some way. Then, at the height of the public hype, there's a tiny trail of breadcrumbs. Some press hound picks it up, and – hey presto, our International Rescue outfit are unmasked! And who do these intrepid heroes turn out to be?" he asked dramatically.

"Employees of Tracy Corporation?"

There was a glint in Jeff's eye as he shook his head. "Even better,' he mused.

Marchant raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Jeff pushed himself up with unaccustomed alacrity. He jabbed at a control panel on his desk.

"Research," a voice responded, tinny over the intercom. "Oh, Mr Tracy…"

"The kid. The one with the stammer and the ridiculous glasses and the unpronounceable name?"

"Er – are you referring to Professor Hackenbacker?"

"That's the one. Wasn't he wittering on about designs for some airborne salvage vehicles? Have him report to me immediately."

"Er, he doesn't actually work for us, Mr Tracy."

Jeff was taken aback. "No? Well, how do I know him?"

"I believe he's suing us for breach of patent."

"He is? Well get him, anyway."

He jabbed another button.

"Legal department….oh, yes sir."

"Hackenbacker?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't follow you?"

"Young scientist by the name of Hackenbacker. Suing us."

"I – I'd have to get the case files, sir. There are rather a lot of outstanding claims at…"

"Make it go away. I want him working for me on a private project by the end of the week."

"Consider it done, sir."

Jeff jabbed another button. Marchant watched in awe. The old man was in full flow now.

"Mattie, find out where my son is posted."

"Which one?"

Jeff went red in the face. "Dammit, Mattie, I pay you to use your initiative!" He swung around to Marchant. "Tony I need you to run things around here for a few months. I'm going on sabbatical."

Marchant cocked an eyebrow. Life, he mused, was about to get more than a little interesting.

…