Tenchi Muyo! versus Men in Black

by Will Pii

Edition 5. When Washu notices an Arquillian battlecruiser in orbit of Earth, she, Ryoko, and Ayeka investigate. Meanwhile, Agents J and L acclimatize to their positions in the Men in Black, becoming involved with a crash in Manhattan Bay.

3. Chapter 2: Induction

Chapter 2 – Induction

Dr. Laurel Weaver had just had the worst few days of her life. Prior to 5 July 1997, she had been deputy medical examiner for New York County, performing her duties in the quiet isolation of the county morgue. After earning a medical doctorate and studying forensics and pathology for a few additional years, she had grown rather cynical about the human condition in general. Her attitude only worsened during her tenure in the morgue, after seeing numerous ways Terrans could kill each other. As such, the good doctor tended to prefer the company of the dead to the living.

However, Laurel's life complicated around 2 July. She had holes in her memory for which she could not account. She vaguely remembered visiting a local police precinct, perhaps speaking with an officer or a government official, but not what was said or done. A couple days later, she hazily recalled discussing some recent arrivals to the morgue with some black-suited agents. Then again, as medical examiner, she did this regularly, so she merely attributed both incidents to déjà vu and nothing more.

In the early evening of 5 July, the good doctor was finishing some paperwork when an orange tabby cat jumped onto her desk. She had noticed the cat off and on for the past day, but she could not quite remember when he first got into the office. The embroidery on the animal's collar read "Orion", so no doubt the tom belonged to someone.

Yet, a quite ornate fob hung from Orion's collar. Curious, Laurel looked closer and found the fob held an orb, which itself contained a miniature galaxy swirling with billions of stars. For a moment she was mesmerized by the artifact's beauty, watching a cosmic ballet performed within a jewel.

Then, Orion hissed and leaped off the table, disappearing into the morgue. Laurel was stirred from her awe and could hear the ringing of the call bell at the reception desk, an incessant noise. With a heavy sigh, she turned back to her work, leaving the annoyance at reception to the conspiracy-buff attendant. However, vicious roars and airy screaming followed. The medical examiner rose from her chair and cautiously started for reception.

As she reached the hallway to the front lobby, a tall man lumbered into the corridor. He reeked of decaying flesh and mildew even from a distance. His skin jostled loosely on his frame as he seemed to limp toward her. He wore brown overalls and tan work shirt, likely a farmer or other rural laborer. As he came closer, she could see one of his eyes had become completely white from days of rot, that the skin of his face was infected and peeling. Needless to say, Laurel was sickened by his very presence.

Pausing, she asked apprehensively, "Can I help you?"

From his pocket, the man produced a long-barreled revolver, a veritable hand cannon. She froze, eyes fixated on the firearm.

"Where's the animal?" the zombie-like farmer demanded.

Considering the only non-human animal she had seen recently was Orion, she knew what he meant. Still, this grotesque hardly had good intentions.

"I don't know," the doctor answered.

Then, he grabbed her lab coat and slammed her back against a bank of coolers, pressing his gun along her collar.

"Where's the animal?!"

"I told you, 'I don't know.'"

"Well, let's see if we can find it," he hissed before grabbing the collar of her coat. He pulled and dropped her onto her back, dragging her through the morgue like a caveman's conquest. While she tried to get a grip on his wrist or leg, he continually pulled free.

The ringing of the call bell returned, as well as an impatient "Hello!". The zombie farmer paused, notably irritated as he curled his lip and glanced back at the hallway. Whoever was at the reception desk was not someone her assailant wanted to see. Maybe she could be saved from this disgusting creature.

Still, the farmer had the gun.

He quickly rolled out a gurney and knelt beneath it with a sheet draped over the side. He kept one hand clamped onto her ankle, and the other firmly grasping the revolver. Stiffly, Laurel stood waiting her potential savior, lips dry and heart pounding, not wanting to die tonight.

A man entered the morgue, brown skin, black hair, early-30s, formal black suit. He had a confidence about him not unlike a police officer, and the good doctor could not shake the feeling she had seen him before. Regardless, she hoped he might free her of this predicament.

Standing right across the gurney from her, the man introduced himself, "I'm Sergeant Friday from the 26th precinct. A cat came in with a corpse the other day, 'Orion' on the name tag."

"Yes," she replied nervously, "that's right."

"Right. Well, this cat is a…" Friday said with a distinct pause and unsureness, "a witness… in a murder case. I'm going to need to take him with me, ask him a few questions."

By the absurdity of his statement, she was sure he fabricated the story on the spot, but it was rather irrelevant to removing the zombie's hand from her leg. However, maybe she could work with it, nudge him to realize what was actually happening under the gurney.

"Well, I don't know where the cat is right now."

"Oh, you don't?"

"No, but…" she started with a slight husky quality to her voice, "maybe you can take me with you instead."

"Damn, you do start fast, don't you?" he scoffed.

"I'd really like to go with you," she reiterated, dropping the facade to her voice. "Now."

"And, exactly why is that?" he asked with an idiotic grin on his face.

"There's something I need to show you," the medical examiner added, pointing toward the gurney.

"Slow down, girl! You ain't gotta hit the gas like that!"

A moment's thought on her part gave her the realization that from his perspective, he saw her pointing at her hips, not the gurney.

Oh, God, she internally chided, rolling her eyes, he didn't just think…!

"No, you don't understand," Laurel tried to correct. "You really need to see this."

"Oh, I will. I will," Friday reassured her obliviously, his eyes scanning along her form. "Oh, one thing. I gotta drive. You know, it's not some macho trip I'm on. I'm saying that's just the way I get down."

"Look, 'stud'. You're really not getting this," she stated as her patience finally broke. "There's something I need you to help me with!"

This time, Laurel pointed directly under the gurney, and Friday's eyes slowly slid to the gurney. Seeing the suspicion and realization in his eyes, the medical examiner nodded emphatically. As he reached into his jacket pocket for his sidearm, Orion growled and jumped onto the gurney from a nearby cabinet. The zombie grabbed the poor cat and upturned the wheeled bed, forcing the well-dressed moron to step back. The assailant ripped the collar from the orange tabby and quickly grabbed Laurel's neck. He hid behind her body, his revolver pointed at her temple.

The morgue's doors burst open as another black-suited man entered, early-50s, salt-and-pepper hair, white skin. His demeanor was stern, well-practiced, likely government. He carried a small pistol-like weapon composed of some silvery metal, but it did not seem to have a chamber for bullet cartridges. Friday's weapon was very similar, though considerably smaller and making some odd chirping noise, almost like a cricket. Both agents leveled their weapons on Laurel, attempting to get a good shot at the creature holding her hostage.

"Freeze it, bug!" the older man ordered.

"Christ, you are thick!" Laurel criticized Friday.

"Look. How was I supposed to know?" the younger agent retorted.

"What did I have to do?! Sing it for you?!"

"Well, if you weren't coming on like some drunken prom date."

"Oh, God, that is so typical! Any time a woman shows the slightest hint of sexual independence…!"

"Shut up!" the monster behind her barked, tightening his grip on Laurel's neck.

"Let her go, shit-eater," the elder agent returned.

"Oh, listen, monkey-boy. Compared to you humans, I'm on the top rung of the evolutionary ladder. So, can it, alright?"

"You're breaking my heart. Show me your face, and I'll cure all your ills."

"You ever pull wings off a fly? You care to see the fly get even?!"

The "bug" changed his grip on her neck, his fingers wrapping around her windpipe rather than her spine. Her eyes widened, adrenaline rushing through her, fear freezing every muscle, her mind racing with incomplete information.

Unfazed, the veteran operative rhetorically asked, "How far do you think you're going to get without your ship, if that's what you call the piece of space-trash we got locked up in the office?"

"Put your weapons down," the creature demanded.

"Never going to happen, insect," the skilled agent answered.

"It's okay, Laurel," Friday said reassuringly.

"How is it 'okay'?" Laurel argued.

"I'm saying, 'It's gonna be okay.'"

"Don't bet on it, meat-sack," the creature added before wrapping an arm around her waist and leaping through the glass window behind them.

As the glass shattered around her, the zombie jumped again, sailing over the nearby stairs and railing to land on a sidewalk adjacent to the morgue. Laurel screamed and fought against the bug's hold on her, but her blows did nothing to him or to loosen his grip. He walked right into the street, right in front of a yellow cab. Thankfully, the cabbie stopped just before hitting them both.

Unfortunately, the undead-looking farmer pulled open the cab's door and hauled the driver out, tossing him on the road before throwing Laurel into the driver's seat. Before she could exit out the driver's side door, he pushed her into the seat and held a postcard in her face.

The postcard depicted the observation towers in Flushing Meadows Park, site of the 1964/1965 World's Fair. The two towers stood side-by-side, two pillars with saucer-shaped decks layered atop one another. Relics of a bygone age, both structures, as well as the rest of the surrounding pavilion, had become neglected and weathered by time.

"Take me here!" the monster ordered, the barrel of the gun ever so close.

Steeling her frantic nerves, she replied, "No way."

At this, the walking corpse opened his mouth, revealing two insectoid mandibles. He roared like a lion and hissed like a cockroach, snapping what meager bravado she had left.

"Take me!" he demanded again.

The medical examiner hit the accelerator and sped off, while the beast at her side swallowed the fob from Orion's collar. As she wildly drove toward Queens, dodging through traffic and bumping into other cars, her educated mind raced equally with fear and information. She reviewed the exchange between the bug and the agents in the morgue, as well as what she had just seen in the seat beside her. Through her studies of forensics, she knew well that those mandibles could not be human tissue, nor viably implanted with current medical techniques. Moreover, the older agent continually referred to her kidnapper as "bug" and "insect", while the monster himself continually called them all "meat-sack" or "monkey", even mentioning a comparison of evolution.

Glancing fearfully at her captor, Laurel made a quick analysis of his body's decay. The putrefaction of the flesh was consistent with unpreserved skin over the course of three days. The sagging skin could indicate substantial weight gain followed by an equally substantial loss, but the movement of his joints was inconsistent with a normal skeletal structure. Indeed, his bones would have to be broken to allow how his arm bent nearly 10 cm below where the wrist should be. Considering he was not screaming in pain, she judged he either was high on painkillers or…

He isn't human, she accepted at last.

Naturally, through her studies of pathology, the good doctor knew of numerous organisms that parasitized the human body. However, of the insects she knew, none could have mandibles as large as the farmer's. In fact, an insect in scale with those mandibles would be larger than the farmer's body.

Before she could ponder further, the zombie at her side growled deep and low, finally noticing her staring at him. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel and focused on driving, hoping those two agents would get to her before she reached Flushing Meadows Park.

Sadly, just after night had fallen, Laurel and her inhuman assailant parked next to the Unisphere globe. As the bug cracked open the passenger-side door, the medical examiner breathed a brief sigh of relief before he grabbed her coat's collar again.

"You're coming with me," he barked.

"What?" she asked.

"It's a long trip," he answered with a disgusting grin. "I'll need a snack."

Once again, he pulled her along like a sack of meat toward the two observation towers.

An giant insect wants to eat me for a "snack"! her thoughts screamed.

Thinking only of her own survival, Laurel struggled with her captor, her legs scraping against the asphalt and concrete. Soon enough, they reached the towers, where he hefted her onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry before starting to ascend the pillar's ladder. As her height above the ground increased, she felt fear closing around her whenever she glanced up to the disc-shaped deck above. She had little doubt any more that her kidnapper was anything terrestrial in nature, and unless she wanted to be his dinner, she had to act. Since she could not overpower him, all she had left was her sharp tongue.

"You don't want to eat me," she claimed, her eyes fearfully on the ground. "I'm a very important person on my planet. Like a queen! A goddess even! There are those who worship me! I'm not telling you this to try to impress you. I'm just letting you know, it could start a war!"

"Good," he approved. "War. That means more food for my family, all 78 million of them. That's a lot of mouths to feed, your highness."

Disgusted further and desperate not to be eaten, she finally struck her elbow repeatedly into his head. At this point, falling to her death would be preferable to being consumed by an insect.

"You're a wonderful dad, but I'm staying here!"

Annoyed by her, the bug tossed Laurel into the air at his side, where she fell through the branches of a tree until she hit and clung to one sturdy limb. Catching her breath, she turned her eyes back to the tower above, where the zombie opened a hidden panel on the underside of the observation deck. Once he crawled inside, the panel closed behind him, and within moments, a deep hum arose from the structure. The layers and rails of the observation deck closed down upon itself, forming a very stereotypical saucer shape. Exterior lighting flickered to life while the entire machine rumbled, tearing free from its pillar and floating upward into the sky.

The young doctor could not believe her eyes. She was witnessing a flying saucer lift off from Queens with an alien insect inside. Thankfully, she counted her blessings that she was not aboard with him. Secretly, she hoped he starved on whatever trip he took.

However, before the vessel reached the clouds, two blue fireballs flew from the ground and splashed into the hull of the craft. Its trajectory veered back toward Flushing Meadows Park, panels exploding free and flames bursting across the vehicle's surface. The machine circled once, smashing through the tall flagpoles from the World's Fair before slicing through the Unisphere and crashing into the ground. A plume of soil burst up from its point of impact as it slid forward, coming to rest before two men holding rather large weapons.

Surprised, Laurel blinked to clear her eyes. Those men were the two agents from the morgue. They had finally arrived and shot down the bug's saucer, preventing his escape.

Better late than never, she supposed.

A large panel creaked open as her kidnapper lumbered out, ranting angrily at the two agents. While she could not hear the details of the exchange between them, she did grin at the two men holding the villain at gunpoint. He put his hands on his head, not unlike any other perpetrator being arrested.

Then, he ripped the skin from his body and revealed a slimy brown carapace that slowly unfolded before the two agents. Laurel's eyes widened as she saw her assailant unveil his true form, a monstrous cockroach. Stunned for a moment, the men hesitated to fire their weapons before the roach spat some mucous that clung to their weapons. With an inhalation, he ripped the guns from their hands and devoured them, leaving them unarmed. The insect then swept the two of them aside before storming toward the remaining observation tower, the remaining ship.

Then, the elder agent ran in front of the insect waving his arms and yelling at the beast before screaming the first words Laurel could make out.

"Eat me!"

With a roar and to the horror of both the younger agent and Laurel, the bug granted his wish. The beast's mandibles opened wide and distended before it lunged forward and enveloped his body with its throat. Within seconds, the veteran agent was gone, inside the gullet of the extraterrestrial insect.

Then, the remaining black-suited man launched forward. Throwing rocks and wielding a mangled beam of steel, he engaged his partner's devourer.

"Hey! What's up?! Just gonna eat and run, huh?! What about dessert?!"

The beast merely pushed him toward the tree where Laurel clung in silent witness. Again, the apparent rookie stood, the wind knocked from his lungs.

"What? That's it? Where you going? This party's just getting started." He walked directly into the bug's path to the tower. "Where you going?" He picked up a flaming branch from the first ship's ascent and brandished it before the bug. "Where you going?!"

The giant insect recoiled, surprised at the man's bravado.

"Let me tell you something. There's only one way off this planet, baby, and that's through me!"

The beast simply punched him, yet the tenacious young man refused to stay down. Again and again, he attempted to stab the bug, wrestle with its immense girth, but the monster was too large and too powerful for him. Finally, the man was sent sailing through the air and into the metal siding of a nearby dumpster.

As Laurel craned her neck to see what became of him, the branch holding her finally broke, sending her to the ground. Quickly, she scurried behind the tree and some nearby bushes as the bug climbed the pillar. While she watched, the young man wearily regained his feet and walked toward the bug again, determined.

"Hey," the agent called out, clearly dazed from the impact. "Where you going? Why you running, huh? I'm still standing. Come on, bring it! Come on, bring it!"

Then, he paused and turned back to the dumpster. From Laurel's perspective, she only saw him kick a hole into the rusted side of the large garbage container and cautiously step on something.

The bug stopped immediately.

"Uh oh," the agent said very loudly, very purposefully. "I'm sorry. Was that your auntie?"

The beast hissed and swung back toward him.

"Oh, then that must mean that's your uncle then, huh?" the young man added, stomping clearly again. "You know you all look alike."

The monster jumped off the pillar in a rage and started stalking toward the agent.

He's stepping on other bugs, she reasoned, to enrage the damn thing. Why the hell would he do that?

"Well, well," the young man began, antagonizing the giant insect further with each creature he crushed beneath his shoe. "Big bad bug got a bit of a soft spot, huh? See, what I can't understand, is why you gotta come down here bringing all this ruckus. Snatching up galaxies and everything. My attitude is 'Don't start nothing; won't be nothing'."

As Laurel lurked in the bushes, the agent stood face-to-face with the creature, its mandibles and claws shaking with rage, wanting to tear him asunder.

What the hell is he doing?! she wondered. It's going to eat him too!

"Need to ease up out my face before something bad happen to you," the agent warned coldly.

Then, the racking of a slide preceded a high pitched whine, much like a capacitor charging.

The agent just angled his head to the side and grinned victoriously. "Too late."

The bug clutched at his body before the juncture between his thorax and abdomen exploded in a spray of slime, sending his two halves in opposing directions. Laurel recoiled from the blast, momentarily losing track of the events, hearing three different thuds around her. However, she promptly opened her eyes to see the veteran agent, alive and well, holding his gun alongside his partner, both covered in mucous. The younger man pulled an item out of the ooze for both of them to see, to which the elder pulled out what seemed to be a strangely designed flip phone.

"Zed," he said into the device, "call the Arquillians. Tell them we have the Galaxy."

She smiled, relieved that they had succeeded, though while they started to banter back and forth, her eyes caught movement nearby. Crawling silently toward the two men, the top half of the bug was still alive, its razor-like claws pulling it forward toward them. She started to stand when she noticed a silvery gleam a short distance away.

The other gun, she realized.

She slid quietly over to the weapon, watching the broken insect lurch ever closer to the two heroes. They happily chatted, relieved at their victory until the monster reared up and lunged at the younger man. Laurel stood and fired the weapon, smashing the villain's head and thorax into a splash of goo around the men. Both turned to see her standing behind them, satisfied at her own win.

"Interesting job you guys have," she quipped.

After returning to their feet, the two agents wiped off the entrails of the insect and changed into another pair of matching black suits. While the elder agent walked off to the side with his communicator in hand, his protégé lingered by their car, reflecting on the battle that just concluded. Laurel approached him and leaned against the car, catching his attention.

"So, care to tell me what all this was about?" she asked.

He glanced over to his partner, who was still occupied with his conversation on the communicator. A little worry seemed to roll through the young man's eyes as he considering her question for a moment. She could clearly see that they were from some secretive organization, so he was likely debating on what he should say. Regardless, he disregarded whatever secrecy protocols existed and explained the events to her.

"Alright," he began. "You remember that cat Orion?"

"Yeah, he was hanging around the office for about a day."

"He belonged to an Arquillian prince, Gentle Rosenberg. The bug killed Rosenberg to get to the jewel on the cat's collar."

"What was that jewel?" Laurel asked, thinking back. "Before the bug came to the morgue, I looked into the fob, and…" She paused, thinking about all the magnificent star clusters and swirling nebulae. "… it was amazing."

"From what I know, it's a really, really small galaxy. It's the best source of power in the universe, so the bug wanted it to start some shit with Rosenberg's people."

"Then, why didn't his people just come and get it?"

The man turned to her and folded his arms. "They did. They sent a big-ass battle cruiser to get it." Pointing up to the sky, he added, "It fired a warning shot about an hour ago. If we didn't get the Galaxy back, they were going to blow the planet up to keep the bug from getting it."

Laurel's eyes narrowed at him. "Who the hell do they think they are?! There are billions of people here!"

"Hey," he defended, "I just work here. Apparently, Earth doesn't matter much to the rest of the universe."

"So, how do you two factor into this? I guess you're some sort of government agents?"

Tugging proudly on his lapels, he replied, "Protecting the Earth from the scum of the universe."

The medical examiner rested her hands on her hips as she scanned slowly over the wreckage around them.

"Well, destroying half of Flushing Meadows is preferable to the planet exploding," she sardonically stated.

"It's hardly half," he argued.

"So, now that you have the Galaxy back, what happens now?"

"We'll probably take the Galaxy back to the office and hand it over to the Arquillians," he surmised. "A crew will come out and clean all this up before anyone else notices."

She folded her arms and added, "And me?"

A conflict arose in his eyes as he glanced to the ground for a moment. She could tell he was avoiding telling her, and a fear stirred in her chest. With all the effort to hide the events here at Flushing Meadows, one could easily anticipate her silence at some level as well. One sure way to ensure her silence would be to kill her, though if that was an option, they would have shot through her in the morgue to stop the bug there. Besides, the man standing before her did not seem like a killer. As deputy medical examiner, she periodically had to testify to her forensic findings in murder cases. Having seen several murderers firsthand, neither agent seemed so heartless.

Before he could bring himself to answer, his mentor returned.

"Let's go," the elder man stated as he opened the driver's side door.

"Kay, what should we…?" his protégé began.

"Both of you, get in," the older agent ordered sternly.

The pair joined him inside the automobile before the car roared to life. The engine seemed far more powerful than what would normally be found in a 1980-era Crown Victoria. Admittedly, considering all that had happened tonight, Laurel would not be surprised if the car was some sentient robot from another planet.

An uneasy silence surrounded them as they drove away from Flushing Meadows Park, taking the tunnel from Queens back to Manhattan. With the excitement past, the good doctor reflected on the evening. She had been held hostage by a giant alien insect, watched as two government agents confronted the beast, and saved their lives, perhaps the whole planet. Part of her felt rather proud about that fact, though other more immediate matters permeated her thoughts.

"So, 'Kay', I presume?" she addressed the elder agent. "What are you going to do with me?"

"You'll be back at your apartment before you know it," he answered plainly.

"That's reassuring," she said sarcastically.

"Don't worry, Laurel," his partner added, casting a mild glare at his mentor. "His sense of humor died when Elvis went home."

Her brow raised. "'Went home'? I shouldn't be surprised."

"Try finding out that your third grade teacher was an alien from Venus," the young man added.

"Jupiter," Kay corrected.

"Yeah, whatever," his partner replied, rolling his eyes.

Having seen the younger agent for some time now, Laurel still could not shake the déjà vu she had looking at him. His mannerisms, his impudent tone, his bravado, all seemed familiar but just out of reach of her memory.

"What is your name?" she asked. "I swear I've met you before."

"I'm Agent J," he answered, "and we met in the morgue."

"Just the letter 'J'?" she scoffed. "I should have known you wouldn't give me your real name, or the whole story."

"Hey, that is the whole story, Laurel. Kay and I came to the morgue…"

"… tonight," his mentor interrupted, "when the bug came for the Galaxy."

Incredulously, Jay looked over at his partner. "Really?"

"We don't discuss business with the public, kid."

With a heavy sigh, the newer agent turned back toward the windshield. "Alright. Sorry, Laurel. That's all I can say."

Dr. Weaver could see that Jay wanted to tell her the truth, but Kay would not let him. As they continued on in silence, Laurel wondered about what he would have said. As deputy medical examiner, she saw numerous dead bodies pass through her morgue. Considering the brutality of the giant cockroach tonight, Laurel asked herself why she had not seen the victim from the creature, let alone encountered anyone like these two before. Apparently, their organization not only cleared the scene efficiently, but also silenced witnesses. She worried more about her own fate as the car came to rest in front of a Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel ventilation building, just outside Battery Park.

The building itself was an imposing concrete brick towering over them, with the nearby skyscrapers looming far higher still. One of four such structures, it had the designed purpose to exchange and clean the air within the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel, which connected Manhattan and Brooklyn. Illuminated only by the street lamps, the building seemed like a monument to the achievements of mankind.

Tonight, however, "mankind" had gained a new definition for Laurel Weaver.

All three occupants exited the vehicle, though Kay instructed the good doctor to remain with the car. She reasoned they had business in regard to the Galaxy, considering all the trouble they had in getting it. She sighed and sat on the fender of the old Crown Victoria while the agents walked toward the stone building.

However, while she waited, she noticed they loitered near the door, talking amongst themselves just out of her earshot. Kay was manipulating some silvery device in his hand, different from the weapons they had used with the bug earlier. Admittedly, Jay seemed confused throughout the entire discussion.

He's probably teaching him about some new tool, she reasoned. Admittedly, she had already pegged Jay as very new to the job, particularly compared to Kay's consummate professionalism.

Growing impatient, and tired from this ordeal, Laurel folded her arms and called out to them, "Hey, guys! My apartment isn't anywhere near here. It's not even on the same island."

They glanced to her briefly, Jay with his jaw open like he had just been punched in the gut. Kay finished his apparent explanation and handed the silver device to his protégé, who accepted it very tentatively. Speechless, Jay put on his sunglasses at this dark time of night, which caught the doctor's attention as quite odd. He then raised the device and flashed a bright red light into the other man's face.

After the flash, Kay seemed dazed while Jay spoke to him for a couple of minutes. About a minute after Jay stopped talking, Kay blinked his eyes and glared quizzically at his partner before wandering off into the night without another word. The younger agent removed his sunglasses, revealing a melancholic expression on his face, loss and guilt evident.

Confused, Laurel walked to him and asked, "What was that all about? You look like your dog just died." Glancing to where Kay vanished into the darkness, she added, "And, where did Kay go?"

"Don't worry about it," he said distantly as he pocketed his sunglasses and the flashy device. "Kay had some business to take care of." Fishing in his pocket, he retrieved the Galaxy's fob. "I still have a job to do."

Another man's voice replied, "That you do, son."

Both turned to see the doors to the ventilation building open, revealing two individuals standing in the opening, a man and a woman. The man had a husky build, mid-60s, black hair, white skin. Like Jay and Kay, this new man wore a very nondescript black suit, though he did have a rather distinctive goatee and mustache. He carried a confidence and distance in his gaze likely built over the span of decades with this organization. The woman, on the other hand, appeared to be in her late-40s, blond hair, white skin. Unlike her male colleagues, she wore a black skirt suit, though she could easily be mistaken for most any other businesswoman. While she seemed comparable in age to Kay, this woman in black had a similar demeanor to the man at her side, formal, professional.

"Zed?" Jay addressed the man.

The elder gentleman stepped down to him and stated, "We have to get that Galaxy back to our friends upstairs." Taking the fob in hand, he added, "Besides, you have a fair share of paperwork after all the racket you caused today."

"What about Kay," the newer agent asked before motioning to Laurel, "or her?"

"That's all been arranged," Zed reassured him as he nodded to the lady at his side.

"I'll escort her home, Agent J," the woman declared with a distinct British accent. "You should finish your mission."

Laurel folded her arms. "Let me guess. 'Agent W'?"

Likely from working amongst a secret organization composed primarily of men, the female operative caught the implication, "W" for "woman". She grinned to herself and answered, "'Agent O', actually."

Despite herself, bad puns and crass jokes about orgasms raced through Dr. Weaver's educated mind as she remarked sarcastically, "That's a lot better."

"Admittedly," Oh remarked, "I know of agents with worse designations, Dr. Weaver, particularly in a 'boy's club'. I'm sure medicine is no different."

The good doctor had to agree. Historically, medicine was a male-dominated profession, which could impede the upward mobility of a female practitioner. In some ways, circles of medical doctors resembled college fraternities, including the unspoken nepotism and hazing. Laurel would not deny that encounters with her male peers shaped a portion of her cynicism toward the human condition.

However, Jay interjected, "Agent O, I want to get her home."

Laurel could hear a little worry in his voice as before, likely concerning how she might be silenced. Still, she could not resist a quick jab at his expense.

"I'm sure you do, stud."

Before the young agent could retort to her, Zed interjected, "Junior, she is a veteran agent and can handle driving Dr. Weaver home. You, on the other hand, have a Galaxy to return."

Laurel could see Jay's loyalties torn in his eyes before he acquiesced to his superior. He glanced back at her one last time and said, "Goodbye, Laurel."

The finality in the young man's voice caught the good doctor's ear as Zed escorted him inside the ventilation building. She wanted to respond, to reassure him, but honestly, she did not know what would become of her in this drive with Oh. The elder woman motioned toward the Crown Victoria.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Laurel slid into the passenger's side door, offhandedly commenting, "I could use a shower after all this."

"I'm sure you could," Oh agreed, taking her place behind the steering wheel. "I doubt you enjoyed being manhandled by 200 pounds of decaying flesh around a giant cockroach."

The car roared to life once more as the lady agent drove away from Battery Park toward Staten Island. The medical examiner turned to her escort and regarded her cool and collected demeanor, not unlike the grizzled Agent K who had walked into the night.

"So, how long have you been at this?"

Oh grinned. "Not as long as some."

"What is it exactly that you all do?"

Unflinchingly, her chauffeur explained, "We monitor and police extraterrestrial presence on this planet. At any given time, there are about 1500 alien residents, many of them on Manhattan Island itself."

"How long have aliens been here?"

With a chuckle, Oh answered, "On Earth or in Manhattan?"

"Both would be nice," Laurel retorted.

"As you might imagine, claims of extraterrestrial visitation extend through history: Roswell, the so-called 'foo fighters' of World War II, even some ancient civilizations. Our official first contact was March 2, 1961, outside New York City with a Baltian refugee ship. They wanted a neutral world where creatures without a home could find asylum and make a life."

"How neutral was tonight?" the doctor remarked.

"Political balance is tricky, as you might imagine," the agent observed. "In 1978, we did choose not to help the Zarthan queen in her war with Kyloth since their conflict had no bearing on Earth. Tonight, however, the bug had assassinated a visiting dignitary on our world. That action does invoke our direct involvement."

"Since aliens really exist," the medical examiner argued, "why are they in disguise? Why keep such an important truth hidden?"

"Considering your profession, Dr. Weaver," Oh returned, "I'm sure you already know why. You have seen what humans will do to each other. Can you imagine what they would do to another sentient life form, particularly one that is more intelligent, more powerful, or even just aesthetically different?"

This statement took Laurel aback. She had seen the results of gruesome murders, bodies so mutilated and mangled that she took hours to reconstruct them, let alone uncover how they were torn asunder. An itch in the recesses of her mind ached, to bodies with inexplicably missing organs or incorrect anatomy. While she could not formulate this mystery memory as a whole, she could visualize a nonhuman creature on her examination table, stab wounds, gunshot holes. She knew well what mankind could do in hate or fear, even love.

"However," she considered, "what about what an alien could do to us? I'm sure some of these other races have technology far beyond ours, by the looks of the boys' guns."

"That is why the Men in Black exist," Oh acknowledged, "not only to keep these alien residents from discovery by humans, but to protect humanity from any threat these visitors might pose."

Listening and internalizing all she has heard, Laurel finally asked her driver the question that had not been answered all night.

"Then, what happens to me now?"

As Oh slowed the car to a stop in front of an apartment building, she took a calming breath. Turning to Laurel, the medical examiner could now see a slight moisture to the agent's eyes that was not evident earlier.

"Kay saw potential in you, just like he did in Jay. You kept your cool against the bug, and saved both men's lives. You are perceptive and intelligent, which are needed qualities for our line of work."

For a moment, the good doctor blinked and considered her meaning. "You're offering me a job?"

"In short," Oh admitted, "yes, if you want it."

"And, if I don't?"

"Then, you go back to your normal life, like nothing ever happened."

Laurel raised an eyebrow. "After everything I saw tonight, I don't see how I can do that."

"Rest assured," the elder woman grimly affirmed. "It can be arranged. I'll give you until sunrise to decide."

The weight of the offer bore down on Laurel's shoulders as she thought about the issue. She glanced out the car's window, seeing her apartment nearby, the excitement finally giving way to exhaustion. Her skin did crawl, thinking back to the evening's activity, and she craved a shower again. As she opened the door, she paused while one more question entered her thoughts.

"What happened to Kay? He just wandered off into the night without a word."

Agent O took a heavy breath as she faced forward in the car again, likely pushing her personal feelings aside in favor of professionalism.

"He was reassigned. You will likely never see him again, whatever you decide."

Seeing the wetness in the agent's eye glint in the dim light, Laurel inquired, "Is the job worth it?"

"For the sake of all the people on Earth," she answered, "yes. I'll see you in the morning."

At this, Laurel exited the car before Oh sped off into the night, the black car vanishing in the darkness around it. For the entire night, Dr. Weaver pondered Oh's offer, to join the MiB. As she washed away the dirt and mucous from her evening's ordeal, she thought about the dangers waiting around her, hidden just from sight. Monsters beyond her imagination could be lurking within the skin of her neighbors, her coworkers, anyone in this city.

Yet, she also considered the excitement and discoveries she could witness, all she could learn and experience. As a medical doctor, she could only wonder at the biology of these otherworldly beings, how their bodies operated and functioned. As a police force, the organization MiB likely had its own forensic unit, which could give her such insight into the questions now rushing into her head.

Then, she worried about Oh's words about Kay, as well as what might happen to herself if she turned down the offer. The way Kay walked away, so blank and empty, Laurel wondered what the device Jay used did.

Could it have affected his mind? she asked herself. Might that be how they enforce their secrecy?

Admittedly, Laurel had more questions than answers, and she knew of only one way to ensure those questions received answers.

Dr. Weaver only got a couple hours of sleep, though this was not unusual for a medical examiner in New York City. As the sun rose on 6 July 1997, she put on her most professional skirt suit and walked back to the street next to her apartment, where the black Crown Victoria was already waiting. Agent O stood next to the car and smiled to herself as Laurel approached.

"I'm in," the doctor announced quietly.

"Welcome to the Men in Black," her new mentor answered.

X X X

Before 2 July 1997, James Darrel Edwards III made a name for himself as one of the best of the New York Police Department (NYPD). Only in his early 30s, he regularly frequented Gold's Gym to stay physically fit and was known to rundown perpetrators on foot, much to the embarrassment and jealousy of his older peers. He also had a keen perception and intuition, which served him well on the street to identify suspects and locate evidence in his cases.

However, Edwards's superiors refused to promote him due to his severe problems with authority, cracking wise and often arguing with his captain, to say nothing of his fellow officers. The department's counselors expected the root of the issue arose from his childhood. His father, Col. James Darrel Edwards II, had been assigned to the military detail of the historic Apollo 11 launch, but had been murdered on a nearby beach where he was to watch the launch with his son. Being only four years old at the time, James was sent to live with his maternal aunt in Los Angeles, against the wishes of his father's family in Philadelphia. The ensuing custody conflict, and James's own heroic ideal of his father, hammered a wedge between the young man and his uncle. That split seemed to extend to most other authority figures, eventually leading to James moving to New York, not far from his cousins in Pennsylvania.

The murder of Col. Edwards remained unsolved and drove his son to become a police officer, to solve mysteries like this one and bring other families some closure.

Late in the evening of 2 July, James found himself dazed and disoriented, his muscles aching a bit like he had been for a long run. Eying his surroundings, he recognized his location as a Chinese restaurant run by a rather odd man named Wu. Officer Edwards had dined here a few times before, usually after checking on Jack Jeebs, a local fence the police periodically used as a source.

Across from the young man sat an older gentleman, likely in his early 50s, dressed in a formal black suit. He was laughing hysterically at some joke he had just finished telling, but that James could not remember. Scattered before them were half-eaten dishes of food and bottles of beer, seemingly showing they had shared each other's company for a couple hours. Coming to his senses, James pushed his mind to recall what was happening, but he kept drawing blanks. The feeling set him very ill at ease, particularly since he should still be on duty.

The other gentleman noticed the time and suddenly stopped laughing, becoming stone-faced and stern in an instant.

"Oh," he said. "We gotta go. Thanks for the egg rolls, kid."

As the man fished through his coat pocket, James replied, "Hey. Wa-wait a minute. Who are you?"

"See what I mean about tequila? You're a very bright young man, James, but you need to lay off the sauce. Now, I'll see you bright and early, 9 o'clock." He produced a business card and handed to James, adding, "Be there, or be square."

While the man left, the officer examined the card: white card stock, "MiB" embossed in black on the front, "504 Battery Drive" handwritten on the back. Walking back to his apartment, James attempted to place the fellow from the restaurant. His stern demeanor seemed like government, reminiscent of a man James had met as a boy. He felt an eerie déjà vu the more he thought about the man, and the more he wanted answers.

The next morning, James found his way to the indicated address, discovering a ventilation building for the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. Entering, he saw the huge fans of the air exchanger, as well as a lone man in a black suit reading a newspaper amidst the loud droning from the ducts around him. Much like his apparent colleague, this sentry was likewise very nondescript, almost uniform in appearance, though clearly of African descent as opposed to European. Edwards also noticed a curious logo on the floor, a black ellipse with three rings crossing it.

"Help you?" the guard asked.

"Yeah," James answered, "this dude gave me this card the other…"

"Elevator," the man rudely interrupted, motioning to the metal doors to his right.

Annoyed by the response, James just walked forward and called the lift, still wondering about the meaning of this. Pushing the only button inside the car, the officer rode down for a few moments until the doors opened, revealing a strange room. Within the rectangular room, light shone down through circular openings in the ceiling, as well as through crevices where the ceiling met the walls. The walls and ceiling were a dull gray, contrasting the white egg-shaped chairs and matching short table. Seated here were six decorated young soldiers, each of the military branches represented at least once. Before them stood a man in his mid-60s, dressed again in the same type of black suit.

"You're late," the agent said to Edwards. "Sit down."

Increasingly more curious, James followed instructions and sat in the remaining chair as the agent introduced himself.

"My name is Zed. You're all here because you're the best of the best: Marines, Air Force, Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, NYPD. And, we're looking for one of you, just one. What will follow is a series of simple tests for motor skills, concentration, stamina."

Yet, Zed did not answer the one question the policeman actually came to hear answered. Edwards raised his hand and got the agent's attention.

"I see we have a question," Zed commented.

"Yeah," James said, "I'm… I'm sorry. Maybe you already answered this, but why exactly are we here?"

Almost immediately, the soldier directly to his left raised his hand too.

"Son?" Zed spoke, motioning to the young man.

Standing to attention, the young man introduced himself, "Second Lieutenant Jake Jenson, West Point. Graduate with honors. We're here because you're looking for the best of the best of the best, sir!"

The agent acknowledged his reply with an approving nod, and Lt. Jenson glowered arrogantly at Edwards before retaking his seat. However, the soldier clearly did not know either, and the irony, as well as the arrogant glower, sparked the policeman to chuckle to himself.

"What so funny, Edwards?" Zed asked, quite serious.

"Your boy 'Captain America' over here," James answered honestly. "'The best of the best of the best, sir!' 'With honors'! Y'know, he's just really excited, and he has no clue why we're here. That's just very funny to me."

Unfortunately, in explaining himself, all of the other soldiers now glared at Edwards also. Zed too stood stone-faced and silent. Alone, the cop's laughter died.

"But, y'all ain't laughing though."

Indifferently, Zed just shrugged. "Okay. Let's get going."

For the entire morning and afternoon, Zed tested the seven men, using written exams, physical trials, and target shooting. After the tasks were finished, Edwards milled with the soldiers while the agent wandered off, presumably to compile the results. While the six soldiers exchanged stories and argued about whose service was better, James walked around the targets from the weapons trial. Each target was of some inhuman creature, featuring claws and tentacles, among other strange appendages.

The one exception was a Caucasian girl carrying quantum physics books, topics way above the usual ability of an eight-year-old. Unlike exercises where one was to shoot enemy targets and spare friendly targets, "little Tiffany" was the only target that would normally be friendly. Moreover, while all of the targets moved, only little Tiffany came forward at the shooters. All the others moved parallel to the shooters, and he could reason away all of them as threats, except little Tiffany. Thus, Edwards had taken careful aim and had shot only her. Notably, Zed and the soldiers had been surprised at his shot, though the old agent had smirked when James had explained himself. Of course, that smirk had vanished when the policeman had quipped for Zed to "ease up off my back about it".

With the tests done, Edwards could examine the targets more closely, and his analysis remained the same. Only little Tiffany was out of place. As he considered his situation, he began to see more incongruities. This entire testing situation was covertly below a tunnel ventilation building, but he had seen no other ducts or fans since leaving the elevator. Among all of these ignorant applicants, he was the only one who was not military, though his father was. He continued to think back to the previous night, about the man in the Chinese restaurant.

Who was he? James asked again. How did I meet him? How did I even end up there?

Yet, the more he pushed to remember, the more the memories refused to coalesce.

Soon, Zed returned and announced, "Gentlemen, congratulations. You're everything we've come to expect from years of government training. And now, if you'll just follow me, we have one more test to administer: an eye exam."

The soldiers dutifully followed him while Edwards lingered behind, still processing what he knew so far. As he exited the gun range, he heard a familiar voice call to him.

"Where you going?"

James turned to see the man from the restaurant, the same stoic face and salt-and-pepper hair.

Stopping immediately, the policeman confronted the agent at last, "Yo. Hey, man. What the hell is all this?"

Handing James a folder marked with the same ringed logo from the elevator room, the black-suited man walked with him and began to explain, "Back in the mid-1950s, the government started a little underfunded agency with the simple and laughable purpose of establishing contact with a race not of this planet."

As they continued through the hallway, his host glanced into a side room. James followed his gaze and saw where Zed stood before the six soldiers, each seated willingly in rather ordinary chairs. Zed donned a pair of sunglasses while holding a silvery device, supposedly to administer the eye test. While James's attention lingered briefly, his host advanced through the corridor, and gave more answers.

"Everybody thought the agency was a joke, except the aliens who made contact March 2, 1961, outside New York. There were nine of us the first night: seven agents, one astronomer, and one dumb kid who got lost on the wrong back road."

Flipping through the file, James saw gray-scale photographs of an apparent alien encounter. A grounded flying saucer was opened with a 7-foot being in its doorway. Several black-suited agents stood around the visitor, as well as one young man in a striped shirt carrying a bouquet of flowers. The civilian's face resonated with Edwards, again a memory tingling in the back of his mind. However, he did notice a similarity between the young man in the picture and the agent at his side.

Still, the temptation to crack wise grew too great.

"Aw," James jested, "you brought that tall man some flowers."

Annoyed, his guide merely motioned to an adjacent corridor and continued.

"They were a group of intergalactic refugees. Wanted to use the Earth for an apolitical zone for… 'creatures without a planet'. Did you ever see the movie Casablanca?"

Edwards nodded.

"Same thing, except no Nazis."

However, the policeman's acceptance of the story was already waning. He had expected concrete, real-world answers to his questions, not a conspiracy theory about extraterrestrials. These pictures were likely faked, just like any other such hoax.

"We agreed, and we concealed all the evidence of their landing.

Farther into the document, James found photographs of the construction of the observation towers in Flushing Meadows Park. Comparing them to the flying saucers pages before, the officer could see the similarity, but still he regarded the story as fantasy.

"So," Edwards deduced, "these are real flying saucers, and the World's Fair was a just cover-up for their landing?"

"Why else would we hold it in Queens?" his host quipped. "More non-humans arrive every year, and they live among us in secret."

Finally, the policeman could not hold his sarcasm back any longer. He already had decided the man at his side was either completely deluded or maintaining an elaborate joke.

"Look. I'm sorry. Not to change the subject or anything, but when was the last time you had a CAT scan?"

"About six months ago," the agent plainly stated. "It's company policy."

"Right," Edwards retorted, "you should make another appointment." Stopping, he patted his host on the back and offered the file back to him. "Look. Tell your boy Zed I had an absolutely wonderful time, and thank you for everything, but why don't you show me the door?"

Accepting the file, the experienced operative sighed heavily. "Alright. I want to get some coffee. You want some coffee?"

He motioned a nearby door, but James was determined to leave.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

Regardless, the man walked into the coffee room, where some loud laughing arose. James could distinguish a couple different voices as his host began to speak.

"How you doing, fellas?" the agent said.

"Hi, Kay," the voices answered

"That's no decaf, is it?" the agent asked.

"Viennese cinnamon," a single voice stated.

"Aw, don't tell me we only got that powdered stuff for cream again. I hate that stuff."

Curious, James leaned to the side to peek within the room, and his eyes grew wide with the sight he beheld. There with the agent stood four worm- or slug-like creatures, having elongated bodies and thick antennae. None of them was over three feet in height, each with glassy black eyes. They poured each other coffee and smoked cigarettes while holding a conversation with this agent "Kay". Kay was completely casual with them, just getting his coffee and cream while they chatted.

"No, zapika zatwaka," one worm replied, pointing to a nearby with some creamers.

"Huh? Good," Kay accepted as he stepped to the table and added the cream to his coffee. "You guys getting along alright?"

"Eh, saywaka," they said together.

"Well, don't work too hard."

"Okay," the worms answered together as Kay left the room to join James. The policeman's jaw hung open, completely in awe of the evidence in that coffee room, of life from another world. He was still searching for the right words when Kay walked up to him.

"Sure you don't want some coffee?"

Dumbly, James just shook his head as Kay lead him back toward the elevator. After taking a moment to process what he had seen, the policeman regained his power of speech.

"Wh-what were…?"

"They're general gofers around the office," the agent plainly explained. "In return, they get all the coffee they want. Considering coffee is sacred on Takwella, it's cheaper than hiring more staff."

"So, you have aliens actually working here too?"

"A few who are trustworthy and hardworking. Of course, no one comes to MiB without a reason. Everyone has a story to tell, even the worms."

Reflecting on all he had heard, as well as now seen, one question burned in James's mind. As the pair reached the elevator, he turned to his apparent recruiter and steadied his words.

"Then, why me? What brought me here? I doubt you randomly pick a new agent from a Chinese joint every night."

For a moment, the older man's grizzled features softened, becoming nostalgic as he reflected, "I offered this job to a man a lot like you a lifetime ago, but he turned it down." Full of an old memory, his eyes slid to the neophyte and added, "Maybe you won't."

As they rode the elevator back to the surface, James inquired, "What happened? Why didn't he take the job?"

The operative said distantly, "He had conflicting obligations. Being a new father doesn't mix well with this job."

At this, the cop finally asked, "So, what is this job? What exactly is it that you do?"

Soon, the elevator came to its apex and opened its doors to reveal the original foyer that welcomed James to the complex. Kay motioned to the door.

"There's the door, just like you wanted."

"Hold up!" the officer rebuked. "You're not about to get rid of me that quick without giving me an answer."

"Hey, I told you the truth, and you wanted the door."

"That was before you showed me a room full of coffee-addicted worms!"

The lone guard seated in the antechamber turned the page of his newspaper idly, commenting, "The worms always get a rise out of the new guys."

James scowled at the guard while Kay folded his arms.

"We license and monitor extraterrestrial activity on Earth," the recruiter answered, regaining the policeman's attention. "If you want to know more, come with me."

As Kay exited the building, James followed close behind, leaving the guard to resume reading his paper. The pair crossed the street and entered Battery Park, a large public park at the southern tip of Manhattan Island. Adjacent to the waters of New York Harbor, the park was named for the artillery batteries originally placed by setters in the colonial era to protect the young city. Now, it served as a beautification of the sea of concrete and steel New York City has become, and a secondary front for the clandestine base of the Men in Black.

While James followed Kay through the park, numerous people passed the pair: some enjoying the sun shining above, some chattering on flip phones to their offices, others just walking on a journey elsewhere. Considering his recent revelations, the police officer's eyes watched everyone he passed, wondering which were from this planet, and which were from another star entirely. His escort, however, nonchalantly made his way to a particular bench overlooking the harbor and motioned for his guest to take a seat with him.

"Alright, kid. Here's the deal," Kay plainly began. "At any given time there are around 1500 aliens on the planet, most of them right here in Manhattan. And, most of them are decent enough. They're just trying to make a living."

Nodding, James proposed, "Cab drivers."

"No," the veteran agent corrected, "not as many as you'd think. Humans, for the most part, don't have a clue. They don't want one or need one either. They're 'happy'. They think they have a…" he paused for a moment, considering his words before choosing, "good bead on things."

Yet, the prospective agent had only moments ago seen proof of extraterrestrial life, causing an immediate question to burst from his lips.

"Wh-why the big secret?" the officer argued. "People are smart. They can handle it."

"A person is smart," his recruiter replied, before retorting, "People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it." Kay's words silenced the argument immediately, leading into a historical perspective on the matter. "Fifteen hundred years ago, everybody 'knew' the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody 'knew' the Earth was flat. And fifteen minutes ago, you 'knew' that people were alone on this planet." With a heavy sigh, Kay pondered, "Imagine what you'll 'know' tomorrow."

James could not deny the older man's point. In each of the situations he described, people had vehemently wrestled with conflicting knowledge, even persecuted a dissenting voice. In his career as a policeman, James had seen what frightened and bigoted people could do to one another, let alone a visitor from another star. He started to picture what might become of the citizens of New York City, or of the visitors themselves, if the existence of the latter were revealed to the former.

His thoughts then returned to his own circumstances. Now knowing the reality of extraterrestrial life, he considered how would his life change, particularly if he accepted this job set before him.

"What's the catch?"

"The catch?" the older man answered gravely. "The catch is you will sever every human contact. Nobody will ever know you exist anywhere." Turning to face Edwards directly, Kay added, "Ever."

The thought dumbstruck the officer. He could never contact his family again, neither the side he despised nor the side he adored. He could never drop by the usual haunts of his fellow NYPD officers for a beer. Regarding the scale of the secret involved, this stipulation seemed obvious in retrospect, but he had not actually broached the notion until now.

As Kay stood to leave, he stated, "I'll give you 'til sunrise to think it over."

Edwards sat in thought for a moment, but then thought about his recruiter, someone who has lived this life for decades now. As life-altering as this decision was, perhaps he could have some insight.

"Hey," James called to the agent, spurring him to look back one last time. "Is it worth it?

Straight-faced, Agent K replied, "Oh yeah, it's worth it," before taking a few strides and adding, "if you're strong enough."

All night, James Edwards III sat on that bench and weighed his options, swaying between leaving his entire life behind in favor of this tremendous opportunity. The sheer novelty and wealth of information being offered enticed him immediately. Rather that merely cleaning the streets of New York City, he would be protecting the planet Earth itself from dangers on a cosmic scale. Admittedly, he could never tell a soul beyond his future colleagues, but the grandeur of the position seduced him.

The next morning, James returned to the MiB headquarters, where he was christened "Agent J" and partnered with Kay to be trained. Shortly afterward, the pair came to investigate the assassination of Gentle Rosenberg, setting them against the insectoid killer and involving the uninitiated Dr. Laurel Weaver. Over the course of two days, Jay and Kay successfully tracked the bug and cornered him, preventing him from escaping with the Galaxy, a miniature celestial system in Rosenberg's care. Admittedly, Laurel actually saved them by killing the bug with one final shot from Jay's weapon.

After returning to headquarters, Laurel's help in the case weighed heavily on his conscience. Not only had she saved both his life as well as Kay's, but she had also had her memory erased at least three times during their visit to the morgue the previous evening. While Laurel lingered at the parked Crown Victoria, Jay pulled Kay aside for a moment.

"Kay," he started, looking for the right words, "look I know we got these rules and everything, but I was thinking she did help us bust that bug. Maybe we didn't have to 'flashy-thing' her."

The mentor agent glanced back at Laurel for a moment before pulling a silver, pen-like device from his jacket. Jay had seen this implement used several times over the course of the past two days. A standard issue neuralizer, it had the capability to isolate memory engrams and lock them from conscious recall, effectively erasing them. In a flash, all memory of the target person's encounter with the Men in Black and any extraterrestrial would become like a half-forgotten dream. The small red eye on the tip of the tool glowed seemingly innocuously, despite the grave effect it would soon have. Jay had little doubt that Kay intended to remove Laurel's memory of tonight.

"Kay," he argued, "come on, man. Who's she gonna tell? She hang out with all dead people."

However, his trainer corrected him, "It's not for her. It's for me."

While the device slide open to reveal its setting dials, confusion filled Jay's mind.

What does he mean "for me"? the young man thought.

Awkwardly, Kay glanced up to the sky wistfully, or as wistful as a grizzled company man could be.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Blankly, Jay just stared at his compatriot before the elder man clarified, "Stars. I… I never look at them anymore, but they actually are quite…" he paused again, looking at the sky with a more melancholic expression in his eyes, "… beautiful."

The newly minted agent followed his partner's gaze into the air, still unsure as to his meaning. Confused and a little apprehensive, the former policeman turned to his fellow MiB operative and stated, "Uh, Kay. You're frightening your partner."

Finally, Agent K met his student's line of sight and explained his meaning explicitly.

"I haven't been training a partner. I've been training a replacement."

Gobsmacked, Jay's heart sank. While he had admittedly took childish jabs at his mentor throughout their time together, the thought of losing him had not occurred to the younger agent. Truthfully, he had come to respect the salt-and-pepper haired man, not only for his experience and expertise, but also for his bravery and guidance. For him to leave now just as Jay was gaining some meager grasp on this job seemed a cruel twist of fate.

"Wait a minute, Kay," the new agent protested. "I cannot do this job by myself."

About that time, Laurel called out to them, "Hey, guys! My apartment isn't anywhere near here." She folded her arms and added, "It's not even on the same island."

Honestly, although she had been on Jay's mind for the past couple days, her predicament could not compare with his struggle to grasp Kay's sudden announcement. Refocusing, the former policeman watched as his mentor pointed to each dial on the neuralizer, each in turn.

"Days. Months. Years. Always face it forward."

As he handed the device to Jay, the neophyte hesitated before accepting it. Not unlike a child, he was not ready to move forward, to relinquish the role and naivety of a newbie. Kay had said that the young man would get his own neuralizer when he "grew up". Taking this small silver baton would signify not only becoming a full member of MiB, but also the loss of his teacher. The mixed emotions churned deep in Jay's gut, only leaving him more reluctant.

"Kay…" he began to protest.

"I've just been down the gullet of an interstellar cockroach, kid," the elder agent argued. "That's one of a hundred memories that I don't want."

Gazing into Kay's haggard face, Jay could only imagine what the man had seen. He had mentioned the Zeronian migration, as well as other events long preceding Jay's induction into MiB. Answerless questions plagued Jay's thoughts, already muddled by emotions.

What had he seen that made him want to forget it all? Jay asked himself.

One answer did arise. The young man had already deduced Kay was the youth from the historical photograph, the one offering the flowers to the first official visitor to Earth. Snooping over Kay's shoulder earlier today, he had learned that the older man longed for Elizabeth Ann Reston, the woman he had planned to meet that night, who never married, who once in a while looked up into the sky, where Kay gazed back through a satellite.

Maybe it's her, Jay thought.

With one last nod, Kay readied himself while Jay sadly donned his black sunglasses, to protect his own eyes from the neuralizer's effect. On principle, the former policeman hated the idea of tampering with someone's memory. He even noted the trouble such tampering could cause when Kay neuralized Laurel so quickly after Rosenberg's death, losing her testimony as a witness. However, to do this to another agent, his mentor, his friend, made him hate this necessary evil all the more.

Yet, Kay welcomed it with a smile. "See you around, Jay."

Raising the neuralizer, Jay resigned himself to this grim task.

"No. You won't."

In a flash, all of Kay's time with MiB was locked away in his head, stunning him into a malleable stupor. In this state, a suggestion would be enough to ignite his imagination to fill the void left by the missing memories. Considering Kay had served MiB since its inception, many questions would need to be answered. However, Jay had an answer for one of them.

"You've been in a coma for about 35 years," the new agent fabricated. "You missed your date with Elizabeth, and she's still waiting for you."

In about a minute, the dazed effect faded, and Jay's mentor glared at him quizzically for a moment before wandering into the dark of the night without another word. Somberly, Jay removed his sunglasses and sighed heavily. In a way, he had just killed one of the first members of this covert organization, and that weight bore upon his shoulders.

The next couple of hours were a blur of business. Shortly after Kay's departure, Zed exited the headquarters' facade with one of his aides, Agent O. While Oh escorted Laurel back to her apartment, likely to be neuralized like Kay, Jay followed Zed back into the main complex. Admittedly, the young man did attempt to protest, hoping to spare Laurel her memories of tonight, but the chief would have nothing of it.

Once at Zed's office, Jay met a finely dressed gentleman, rather ordinary considering the talking dogs and giant insects he has seen already today. However, the man's face hissed and swung open like a door, revealing a minute alien hominid riding within the gentleman's head. The body itself was merely a vehicle, controlled by the many levers and pedals surrounding its small pilot. Jay had briefly met an Arquillian like this one before, Rosenberg as he lay dying from the bug's sting.

The former NYPD officer finished his mission by handing over the silver fob containing the Galaxy to this Arquillian representative. Naturally, the small man thanked Jay for his heroism, as well as apologized for the threat of planetary annihilation. Irate about the global threat, as well as upset over Kay's departure, Jay opened his mouth to unleash his anger on this diplomat, but thankfully for all involved, Zed interjected and kept the remaining minutes of the meeting civil.

After the Arquillian departed back to his planet with the Galaxy in tow, Zed turned to Jay and began, "Kid, I get that you're upset over Kay, but we don't need an interplanetary incident because of it."

"Then, how the hell am I supposed to feel, Zed?!" the new agent retorted. "No one told me that I was going to replace Kay! I basically killed him today, the guy who not only recruited me, but also trained me!"

"You didn't kill him, sport. You retired him. You freed him of having to remember all the real threats that necessitate MiB's existence. He can enjoy a normal life, not worrying about the monsters hanging over our heads everyday."

"And, he's just supposed to go back to his life, after 35 years? He was a teenager on that dirt road, Zed! How can you go from being a teenager to a 50-year-old man?"

"He'll manage. He's dealt with far worse in his career here, and we have counselors in place to help him rehabilitate to civilian life. Like I said, it's all been arranged."

"And, what about Laurel?"

With a heavy sigh, Zed folded his arms and rebuked, "You should worry more about yourself, son. You've been up for nearly 48 hours, and I'd rather you not have a psychotic episode in my office. I'm putting you off-duty to rest, as well as come to terms with Kay leaving."

The realization hit Jay the moment the words left Zed's mouth. The adrenaline of the battle with the bug had only started to subside, sustained by the suddenness of Kay's retirement. Now, the aches and tiredness of the past two days finally weighed on his eyes, despite his vehement desire to argue with Zed.

"Take some time and get your head straight," the chief reiterated.

Ultimately, Jay conceded. As the dawn sun began to crest over the waters of New York Harbor, the young man found himself on the same bench where Kay offered him this job, his job. Thoughtfully, he examined the neuralizer inherited from his mentor, remembering the people upon which the veteran had used this device. Each had been briefly reflected in its silvery finish before having chunks of their memory locked away by it, Laurel included.

Maybe me too, Jay thought, at some point. Hell, maybe even everyone in town.

However, he considered how those people might react if they kept their memories, knowing that a monstrous creature like the bug could be hiding beneath the skin of anyone. Some people would become paranoid, even insane, with knowledge like that. As Officer Edwards, he had seen a few fellow cops crack, seeing everyone on the street as a perpetrator. Those policemen eventually received counseling, or were outright discharged in some cases. Truthfully, Kay was right.

For the moment anyway, the new agent qualified.

Then, there was Kay. Despite the rebellious attitude Jay gave his mentor, the trainee did respect the veteran. He seemed unflappable, stoic, knowledgeable about nearly every situation he handled. The man appeared invincible, regardless of his age, and part of Jay had hoped to learn more from him. The two had a chemistry, the older's aloofness contrasting to the younger's sarcasm, and Jay already missed picking at Kay, as well as the sharp retorts that came in return.

So now what? he asked himself.

For now, Zed was right. The office had arranged for Jay's belongings to be moved to a new apartment not far from Battery Park, his new covert home. Soon, he would head there and sleep off this first case, but he wanted to sit at this bench one more time, to think, to remember.

As he pocketed the neuralizer, Jay whispered, "See you around, Kay."

X X X

Chief Agent Z had served with the Men in Black organization nearly since its inception. Alongside the slim few of the old guard, he had been personally recruited in 1959 by Chief Agent A, the first leader of the group. Zed had only just finished officer training with the U.S. Army, and the offer to work as a "secret agent" seemed too tempting to ignore.

However, the original agency was hardly glamorous. In the early days, the group received little funding and was regarded as a joke by the government at large. As a testament to the paucity of money, the original headquarters was located in downtown Manhattan under Anita's Nails, a manicure parlor. His pride ached every day for two years entering that facade door, feeling judging eyes of the uninitiated watching him enter a "woman's domain" for work.

Thankfully, the fateful first contact came on 2 March 1961, when the Baltians first arrived. Zed was there to welcome them along side Agents A, D, H, Q, T, and X, as well as an astronomer and Kevin Brown, the young man who would become Kay. All of their hard work became vindicated when Kevin handed the Baltian ambassador a bouquet of flowers and solidified the peaceful cooperation between Earth and Baltia.

Unfortunately, the astronomer could not handle what he was witnessing. In a panic, he ran from the scene only to be restrained by Dee and Tee. Ay considered killing him, but the Baltian ambassador had a nonlethal alternative. He produced a device that flashed a red light at the man's eyes and seemingly wiped his memory of the past few hours, rendering the issue effectively handled. Eventually, the device would be miniaturized and made available to all field agents as the neuralizer, the key to the organization's secrecy.

Still, everyone present recognized the astronomer's reaction would not be uncommon. The world was not yet ready to know of extraterrestrial life, and Chief A chose to take the organization underground. He severed all ties with the United States government, making the MiB an independent entity charged with the monitoring and regulation of the alien presence on Earth. Since then, the Baltians returned every decade to exhibit new technologies, which the MiB patented to fund their continuing existence.

For four years, MiB grew under Ay's watch, soon moving to its current location under Battery Park. Young Kevin Brown, now Agent K, became Ay's pupil, learning straight from the chief himself and rising to prominence as one of the best members of the agency. At the time, Zed was teamed with Eks, who himself had served as a senior officer with the Army in Korea before joining MiB. Together, they set the standard for many field procedures when handling dangerous aliens. On the other hand, Ay put Kay with Dee, a former Secret Service agent having served in various embassies in D.C. The two mostly followed the rules set by Zed and Eks, but had a habit of insubordination and bending their orders. Needless to say, Zed and Kay butted heads from time to time, needing Ay or Eks to intervene.

However, all the first encounters with extraterrestrial visitors blinded them all to Ay's ambitions. He obsessed over new alien technologies, to say nothing of the modifications and adaptations constructed by Agents H and Q. Several cases were taken by Ay personally, by himself, with no one to corroborate his story. Since he was chief, most everyone fell in line, except for Kay. Finally in 1965, Kay followed Ay on a bust of some Verulian smugglers, finding the Verulians killed and Ay in possession of a cosmic integrator, a device he himself had outlawed. Ay offered to take Kay on the "ultimate thrill ride" across the universe, but the young agent kept to his principles. Disappointed, Ay shot his protégé and left him for dead, soon leaving Earth under a new name, "Alpha".

Alpha's betrayal rocked the MiB and left the organization disillusioned and leaderless. Though Kay did recover from his wounds, his youthful zeal was replaced with a humorless dedication to the rules and ethic of the MiB. From the chaos, Eks rose to become the new chief with a new primary rule: all MiB agents must be paired with a partner to avoid another such incident. Even the chief would have someone to balance him, which was the role taken first by Zed. Since Eks and Zed had already been partners for some time, they were able to hold MiB together in the aftermath of Alpha's betrayal.

The next seven years passed rather well as the agency grew stronger and more established. Chief X notably oversaw the deployment of the Arc Net defense system around Earth as well as the construction of the LunarMax penitentiary on the moon. Unfortunately, Eks was already showing his age and chose to "retire" in 1972, opting to be neuralized and pass his position onto Zed. In turn, Agent O, who had been recruited after Alpha's betrayal, rose to balance Zed.

As chief himself, Zed continued Eks's legacy by expanding MiB's influence and forging treaties with numerous other extraterrestrial governments. Most notably, Zed sat down with leaders of the Galactic Union in July 1982 to establish formal relations between Earth and the GU. Grand Marshall Kuramitsu Minami of the Galaxy Police was himself involved in the talks, and the two set the rules of jurisdiction and collaboration between the MiB and the GP. This landmark opened the MiB to the galaxy at large, leading to exchange programs and joint efforts with extraterrestrial organizations.

Yet, time marched forward. Recently, Kay retired Dee and soon asked to be retired himself, after he trained a suitable replacement. Naturally, Kay picked a protégé with the same problem with authority that he had. However, Zed did not fault him in his choice. James Edwards III, now Agent J, certainly showed promise, not unlike his father.

When Kay proposed Jay as his replacement, Zed researched the young man's background and discovered a file from Kay's involvement in the Arc Net's deployment in July 1969. At the time, MiB did not have any of its own spacecraft so Kay had had the device piggyback on the Apollo 11 launch. The assassin Boris "the Animal" had attempted to interfere in order for his Boglodite race to invade Earth. During the encounter, Colonel James Edwards II, Jay's father, had become involved and had sacrificed himself to save Kay. The agent had then found young James III nearby and had had to neuralize him to erase the memory of this tragedy. In a way, Kay recruited Jay to fulfill this old debt of honor.

While Zed was hesitant to allow James III to be included with the other candidates, Kay's insistence eventually convinced the chief to provide the opportunity. Edwards certainly did have the talent and skill, though his attitude was less than desirable. Most of the MiB were ex-military, like the other candidates with James. All of them knew how to keep secrets and follow orders, yet that was what Alpha nearly used to destroy the organization. A blunt and honest voice was needed to balance the silence. Kay's arguments finally swayed Zed, and James became Agent J. His performance in the field against the bug assassin, as well as that of Dr. Laurel Weaver, impressed Kay. While Jay and Laurel were talking after the incident, Kay contacted Zed to confirm his retirement, and to arrange for an offer to the good doctor.

As one might expect, Jay did not take the news of Kay's departure very well and had to be talked down. Since an Arquillian battle cruiser had been threatening Earth from orbit, stresses had been running high for everyone. Zed understood the sentiment, having retired Eks himself years ago, so he forgave the young man's harsh words. The chief ordered the new agent off-duty to rest and reflect on all that had happened.

Now on his third cup of coffee for the morning, Chief Z stood gazing through a pane of one-way glass at his newest "crisis du jour". While MiB had been busily evacuating most of the extraterrestrial dignitaries off-world during the Arquillian ultimatum, a small ship had seemed to confront the threatening battle cruiser. The crystalline vessel was registered in the database shared with the Galaxy Police as the pirate battleship Ryo-Ohki, notorious for many daring heists and malicious mischief over the last five years. Yesterday, while Jay and Kay had been investigating Rosenberg's jewelry store, the black gemstone craft had approached the Arquillian military ship and had been shot down, landing in Lower New York Bay.

With most of his agents facilitating emergency departures, Zed had not been able to send anyone to drag Ryo-Ohki from the bay until this morning. Needless to say, several cover stories were written and distributed to mask the crash, ranging from an amateur boating accident to a meteor impact. Since the event had occurred deep in the bay, the witnesses had only included a few fishermen, who had been neuralized by the cleanup crew on arrival. The pirate battleship was currently locked down next to the bug assassin's vessel in the MiB's covert hangar.

However, the cleanup crew had found more than a ship at the site. On the beach near the alien craft, three rather unique women had been seen: one unconscious, another disoriented, and a third lucid. Before the crew could detain all three, the lucid woman had urged her disoriented companion into a free-standing door, both vanishing along with the door itself. Only their unconscious associate had been brought to the office.

And, there she laid on the other side of the one-way glass from Zed, the space pirate Ryoko, owner and pilot of Ryo-Ohki. Agent H had examined her, finding that she only suffered from a mild concussion, likely from the crash last night. Afterward, she had been moved to this isolated cell in MiB's lower level lockdown, behind two security checkpoints and two reinforced titanium bulkheads. While Zed was still reading her GP case file, he had read enough of her escapades to consider her too dangerous for the holding facility upstairs. Moreover, her ship had appeared during the Arquillian incident.

Laying on a cot in the spartan room, the cyan-maned fury seemed far less imposing than her case file suggested, just an ordinary woman with a wild hairstyle. Thankfully for Zed, his career with MiB had taught him not to underestimate anyone. While she might not have tentacles extending from her fingertips or a vicious maw of teeth, one does not earn the title of "space pirate" through kind acts.

In his hand, Zed held a manila folder containing hard copies of the warrants for Ryoko's arrest by the GP, Case #80812029. While the laboratory technicians were moving many of their files to handheld data tablets, the chief still preferred flipping real pages. As he read through the pages, he found numerous reports dating back to 1994 and before: robbery of transport convoys, drunken piloting, a bombing on the planet Concor, a heist on a branch of the Bank of Jurai, theft of prize money from a swimsuit competition on the planet Heliotropis, to say nothing of several engagements with the GP and a bounty hunter simply named "Nagi". Notably, however, her record seemed to be completely clear since spring 1995. In fact, some reports said she was dead.

Yet, here she was, in his high security facility.

Finally, she began to stir, rolling her head to the side as she groaned. Her hand rested against her forehead as she shielded her eyes from the bright light above her. When her amber eyes cracked open, she quickly sat up, unfamiliar with the reinforced gray walls around her.

Where the hell am I? she asked herself as her eyes scanned over the room.

Her gaze narrowed into a scowl when she noticed the one-way mirror, not an uncommon sight for one in her profession. However, the design did not fit the usual Galaxy Police incarnation she knew well. The mirror was at least a meter taller, to say nothing of the ceiling above her, which was easily three times her height. This room was constructed to hold something far larger than her, which also ruled out the minute mech-riding Arquillians as well.

Her piercing feline pupils focused on the mirror, on her crisp reflection in the glass. She knew well someone was on the other side of the glass, given the few brief times the GP had managed to snare her. Then, her eyes caught an image in the corner of the mirror, just out of her line of sight until now. She found a sealed door in the wall to her left, and her lips stretched into a sly smile.

"Whoever you are," she threatened, "you'd better start running."

The lady pirate extended her palm towards the door as ruby rays of light sparked into existence and coalesced into her grasp. At her fingertips, an orb of ethereal power shone brightly at her command before she willed it to fly at the door. Ordinarily, a blast like this one would blow a hole into whatever object, or person, she desired.

Yet, the red energy pulse reflected off a barrier a few centimeters from the door's surface. Ryoko ducked while the ball of light ricocheted between the walls of her cage, soon dissipating from the various impacts. With a scowl, the extraterrestrial woman rose back to her feet.

"Shielded," she acknowledged. "Not as stupid as the Galaxy Police."

At her side, she opened her right hand and summoned another energy pulse, but as she closed her fingers around the construct, molding it into a blade and hilt. Like her explosive bolt, this beam sword could cut through many materials with ease, its humming vibration and focused heat sheering matter almost effortlessly.

"Let's see how strong it is."

With a great swing, she lunged at the door with her weapon, ruby sparks flying from the point of contact. However, the barrier refused to yield despite strike after strike from her crimson blade.

Zed watched silently, noting her methods of manipulating this ethereal energy, evidently a racial trait from the pirate's dossier. He also recognized her words as the common Cerulian dialect spoken throughout the Galactic Union. The language itself was not unlike Japanese, and a few agents have even proposed some loose ties between the linguistics of the two. Versed in Cerulian among numerous other alien tongues, the chief understood everything she said, even the curses she uttered under her breath in frustration.

When the pirate lowered her blade, considering her next move, Zed's voice sounded from the corners of the room around her.

"It's based on Archanan technology," he spoke in Cerulian to her. "I doubt your little sword will cut through it."

Whipping her hand at the glass, her sword left her grip and flew into the barrier, exploding on contact. However, just like the door, the mirror remained untouched, protected by the same shield. Her amber eyes glared at the reversed images in the pane before her, the irritation plain in her face.

"Aren't you the firecracker?" Zed commented offhandedly.

Ryoko recognized the Cerulian language, as well as the implied authority in his voice, clearly law enforcement of some kind. Already, she had ruled out the Galaxy Police and the Arquillians from last night, so that only left the native Terrans, who should not have this kind of technology.

"And, who the hell are you supposed to be?" she demanded.

"At the moment, I'm your jailer," he answered frankly. "For a lovely young woman, you sure know how to get yourself into a lot of trouble."

"Don't try to play me," the criminal retorted. "You're not the Galaxy Police."

"No," he admitted, "but we have official ties with them. We are the Men in Black, the organization that polices the extraterrestrial presence on this planet."

"Alright, Mr. 'Man in Black'," she mocked while seating herself on the cot, "then why didn't you come and investigate when I first arrived on Earth almost three years ago? Hell, where were you when Nagi showed up, or when a Juraian battleship came nosing around?"

"Ah, yes", he remembered. "I remember that Juraian battleship, as well as the yacht that preceded it. Princess Ayeka's Ryu-Oh, correct?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Our jurisdictional agreement with the Galaxy Police gives them jurisdiction of the Japanese islands," the administrator explained, "while we have jurisdiction on the moon. The agreement allowed us to keep LunarMax open, and also served as a sign of good will toward them. Besides, the GP seem to like Japan for some reason."

He closed the folder and stepped closer to the mirror, meeting her eyes though she could not see him.

"Whatever you did in Japan was on their watch," he said, "but last night, you crashed into our territory. With a record like yours, we usually just deport you outright, or stick you in LunarMax until the GP can pick you up."

"Fine," Ryoko replied, throwing her hands in the air. "Send me back to Japan. I'm ready to go."

Zed shook his head and answered gravely, "I mean, deported back to your planet of origin. That would be the planet Ryua in the Jurai Empire, wouldn't it?"

The pirate's eyes grew hard as she heard the threat in his words.

"Since we would be handing you over to our liaison with the GP, not the resident officers," he added, "you would likely be arrested on sight for piracy."

She shot to her feet and angrily responded, "I have not broken the law in the last two years, you bastard!"

"The statute of limitations on your crimes is ten years, my dear."

"Hey! I helped get Ayeka back to Jurai, and I helped the GP take out Kain," she argued. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Admittedly, Ms. Ryua, several of these files list you as dead after the coup d'etat on Jurai, and none of these files talk about a 'Kain'," he stated bluntly. "Regardless of your deeds, no pardon has ever been issued. You are still held accountable for your criminal activities."

"That's bullshit!" the rogue barked back as she spun away from the mirror, infuriated.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you swear like a sailor," Zed mused, "but we're not going to hand you over to the GP just yet."

Her temper boiling, Ryoko glanced back while her arms folded.

"You showed up right after an Arquillian dignitary was assassinated," the chief mentioned. "That's pretty coincidental. Too bad I don't believe in coincidence."

"You think I had something to do with that?" Ryoko surmised.

"You did crash into the bay after confronting the battle cruiser. What were you doing up there anyway?"

"It wasn't my idea," she admitted. "Washu found the ship threatening to blow up the planet unless you gave them 'the Galaxy'. She roped me and Ayeka into going up there, as if the little princess could talk those mech-riding bastards out of anything."

Surprised, Zed raised a brow. "Princess Ayeka was with you?"

Ryoko smirked and shook her head, amused. "You have no idea who I live with, do you?"

"Where is she now?"

"Hell if I know," the prisoner replied with a shrug. "Last thing I remember was crashing into the bay."

The chief's mind raced. With a former heir to Jurai's throne roaming free around Manhattan, the situation could quickly devolve into another interstellar incident. Moreover, obtaining her and the third accomplice in this little incident would certainly make this picture clearer. Already, he was sifting through available field agents to locate and recover the wayward princess.

Meanwhile, Ryoko smiled to herself. "You got real quiet all of a sudden. Not liking the idea of a Juraian princess lost in your city? Scared she might break a nail?"

"We will find her, Ryoko," Zed assured her. "You, however, can cool your heels for a few hours right here."

"Have fun hunting down the princess, dumbass," the young woman sung as she laid back on the cot.

The lead agent clicked off the microphone as he watched her lounging, humming a mocking tune. While her immaturity was quite evident, the youthful pirate girl had spirit and street savvy. He had heard about the coup on Jurai vicariously through his sources in the GP, remembering clearly that she had been associated with Ayeka at the time. Her story had elements of truth to it, though he would not accept it as fact until he had corroborating evidence. Finding her two companions became the new priority to put this case finally to bed. As he left the observation room, Zed took one more glance at the space pirate, seemingly comfortable in her element.

On the other hand, as Ryoko hummed to herself, she was analyzing her situation: locked in a shielded room, Ryo-Ohki likely regenerating under guard here too, and Ayeka and Washu clearly not in custody of these "Men in Black". Though these agents were not as moronic as the Galaxy Police, they still had their flaws, just like this cage. Already, she was churning ways to escape, especially if she got in contact with her cabbit partner. Her smile widened as she thought about the fun to be had wrecking this secret base.

All in good time, she reminded herself.

X X X

Olivia Cunningham had always been a highly intelligent woman. Raised in London, England, her high marks in scientific analysis and creativity won her much praise and attention by her schoolmasters. By age 18, several universities throughout Britain scouted her for admission, urging her to be the next Rosalind Franklin or Kathleen Lonsdale.

However, another organization scouted her. The Torchwood Institute dated back to a royal decree of Queen Victoria on 31 December 1879, established to protect the British Empire from extraterrestrial threats. The queen herself had recently escaped from an werewolf-like creature rampaging through the Torchwood Estate, for which the organization was named. Since that time, Torchwood instigated any and all alien encounters within the British sphere of influence, establishing branches throughout the empire as it grew. Notably, the three main branches of the institute resided in London, Glasgow, and Cardiff. Unofficially, their motto became "If it's alien, it's ours."

Sadly, this motto nurtured an increasingly vicious and aggressive attitude amongst the agents of Torchwood. Stories of needless execution of benign, or even benevolent, visitors for their technology were commonplace, tolerated due to the boon for engineering and military development. Often, the name "Torchwood" would be whispered and feared by police and other officials when strange occurrences would begin.

To a young Olivia, the chance to investigate and understand the fringe caught her attention, seducing her to join the Torchwood Institute in May 1965. Assigned to Torchwood One in London, she spent many hours reading and researching in the archives of Torchwood Tower at Canary Wharf. While her eyes opened to the marvels of a technology and biology far beyond her studies, she also was exposed to the brutality of the institute. She never saw the ruthlessness in person, but always became involved in the aftermath, studying artifacts splattered with blood or riddled with bullet holes. By September, the young woman wanted away from the office.

After many pleas, she finally snared an opportunity for a field assignment, a simple scouting mission. The musician Mick Jagger of Rolling Stones fame was identified as a visitor, and some female agents were needed to pose as groupies in order to investigate him. While she grimaced at the stereotype, she would rather act enthralled by a musician than spend another night cleaning blood off a console.

During the London show on 17 October, Olivia was heading backstage to continue her observations of Jagger when she encountered a group of Americans working security detail for the concert. Since the Rolling Stones were an English band performing in England, her suspicions of these Yanks rose immediately. As a unit, Olivia and her Torchwood colleagues attempted to gain entry to the band's dressing rooms. Since all of them were female, several attempted to flirt and wile their way past the Americans, yet one man in particular refused to step aside or let his compatriots succumb to the ladies' influence.

The others addressed this man as "Kay", a stone-faced gentleman, complete with the square-jaw and colloquial American accent. Dressed in formal suit like his fellows, he commanded the others' respect, despite being at most 25 years of age. He reminded Olivia vaguely of some cowboy heroes she had seen in some imported films.

Ultimately, Kay's word overrode the wiles of the Torchwood operatives as the latter were escorted off the premises. While the other agents attempted to regain access to the building, Olivia found her way to a nearby pub to reconsider her situation, both at the concert and with Torchwood. She enjoyed learning about all the races and technology from beyond the heavens, but the cost of the institute's methods seemed far too high. Still being young and new to the organization, she hardly had the authority to sway such an ingrained ideology.

During the night, a few of the Americans arrived in the pub and took to relaxing after their duty, Kay in particular. Still quite curious, Olivia engaged the young man in conversation, at first discussing the concert and Jagger. However, as the crowd thinned, the two found themselves laughing and playing darts, genuinely enjoying one another's company. She found him quite the charmer: straightforward, practical, gallant, as well as handsome. Neither of them wanted to leave that pub, despite its terrible food and warm beer.

Yet, as the sun started to rise, she realized that this joyous evening was soon ending. She would return to Torchwood One and resume her grisly work once again. This thought, however, renewed her curiosity in Kay, as well as her suspicions.

Is he from some American agency? she asked herself.

As she stood gazing at the sunrise on the horizon, she decided to test him. "Mick Jagger isn't from England," she mused idly while swishing an ounce of beer at the bottom of its bottle.

"What makes you say that?" Kay replied after a swig of his own beverage.

For the past several hours, Olivia had been listening to his voice, how he laughed and reacted. She had seen him surprised, excited, and thoughtful. He had no surprise in his words at all, from which she deduced that he already knew Jagger's real identity. Thus, she showed no restraint when she gave her honest analysis.

"His voice," she explained coolly. "Its overtones can't be modulated by any known arrangement of human vocal cords. Those tones can cause an aphrodisiac-like reaction, which is why so many women swoon for him."

The man's eyes narrowed. "How would you know that, Miss Olivia?"

Her eyes slid to meet his. "I've been analyzing band's recordings since we identified him."

He set his bottle on a nearby table. "Who is 'we'?"

She heard a new edge to his tone, anxiety perhaps. She estimated that his employer likely was not aware of other agencies across the world, even believing only they were investigating extraterrestrial lifeforms, not unlike Torchwood itself. He might have never considered the issue before now.

And, here they sat, two operatives from different organizations with the same general goal. Olivia considered the choice to maintain the general mystique of Torchwood and report back to her superiors about this American agent, leaving him to wonder. In some ways, her superiors would likely have preferred that choice.

However, his charms and her distaste for her work environment motivated her to disobey.

"I work for the Torchwood Institute," she told him plainly. "And, you're certainly not a roadie for the Stones. Who do you work for?"

The lady could see uneasiness take him, his mind likely churning on another cover story. While she felt a bit guilty about breaking Torchwood's taboos, she already respected Kay more than any of her colleagues in London. He did not seem the kind of man who would kill a visitor without reason. She rested a hand on his, the contact bringing his attention back to her.

"Kay," she began, "I admit that I'm a bit shocked that an American agent would be here in England, but I'm not surprised that you exist. It's a big world, and a bigger universe. If we aren't alone in the universe, why would you think you're alone in your job?"

Obviously, Olivia's words made an impression as he took a heavy breath and glanced to the side in thought. The uneasiness was replaced by contemplation, no doubt weighing his next move. Her hand squeezed his, holding his thoughts with her. His eyes rose to hers when he finally answered.

"I think I need to make a call."

"As do I. How about we meet back here tonight, after all the phone calls, and some rest?"

He smiled softly and nodded. "I'd like that, Miss Olivia."

As they parted ways, the Torchwood operative caught her American counterpart stealing one more glance back at her.

Returning to Torchwood One, Olivia made her report to her overseer, which raised several major questions. What was this American agency? Why were they investigating Jagger? Where were they located? What actions have they taken?

While the ranking members of Torchwood discussed how to react to the existence of similar organization, Olivia met with Kay again in the London pub, where they enjoyed one another's company again. Purposefully, they avoided talking about the issue hanging over both of them and focused on more mundane discussions, such as the Space Race and other normal world events.

Olivia realized she was attracted to Kay, and through his actions, she could tell he was attracted to her as well. However, neither of them acted on those feelings through the night, growing closer as friends, while that unspoken tension hung between them.

Within a day, Kay returned to the United States, leaving Olivia to her job at Torchwood. Thankfully, changes were under way. By December 1965, the Torchwood Institute opened communications with Kay's American organization, the "Men in Black". To understand one another, the two agencies agreed to an exchange program, which involved not only sharing selected case files, but also one agent to be sent through training. Since Olivia had first contacted the MiB, she was chosen as the Torchwood representative.

In her training with MiB, Olivia was given the codename "Agent O" and underwent field training with supervision by Agent Z. For two months, Oh studied the method of the MiB and found them far more to her liking than Torchwood's tactics. The MiB had legitimate political ties to extraterrestrial governments like the Baltians and usually worked with visitors, rather than arrogantly stealing from them. Many visitors actually had become residents around Manhattan, which gave her a great deal of case studies to investigate. Moreover, the MiB had archives and storehouses of technology not only confiscated from the criminal element, but also donated by guests and dignitaries. More information than she thought possible was available in New York.

Yet, MiB was not ideal either. From an older generation, Chief X had a racist streak and was often callous to the plight of alien residents. Often, he would emphasize to her that human lives were his priority. Similarly, he rarely allowed female agents into the field, stating their place was in the office. Also, the agency was far more secretive than Torchwood, using the memory-erasing neuralizer to keep the existence of MiB almost entirely unknown. On the other hand, Torchwood was known to, and feared by, other British organizations. That said, Olivia had read some trials of a drug known as "Compound B67" designed by Torchwood that could effectively erase a person's memory. However, this pharmaceutical was still a few years from practical use.

And, then there was Kay. Now on the same team, they could finally talk openly about their respective backgrounds. Olivia was floored to discover Kay had been present at first contact in 1961 outside New York, and she heard plenty of other agents talk about him as one of the best agents in the organization. Despite this, he remained just as plainspoken and earthy as when they met in London, which endeared him more to her.

In February 1966, Olivia returned to Torchwood with her findings, just as the MiB representative returned to the United States. From the two reports, the two organizations established formal relations, marrying their databases and hashing out jurisdictional practices. Needless to say, Torchwood's more aggressive tactics came under considerable scrutiny by the MiB, particularly as the latter agency had open diplomatic relations with other planets. Plenty of arguments ensued over these and other issues before guidelines were finally made. Even over 30 years later, Torchwood and MiB clash on jurisdiction and dispute claim of cases.

But, Olivia made her own decision. She resigned from the Torchwood Institute and joined as a full-time agent with the MiB. As a former Torchwood agent, she was often tapped when jurisdictional disputes arose, and her knowledge of alien technology made her an invaluable resource in assessing cases. That experience also gave her a voice when dealing with extraterrestrial negotiations, bringing to the attention of both Eks and Zed. Unfortunately, with Eks in charge, her upward rise was limited, overlooked for her sex in favor of her male peers.

Likewise, any aspirations Oh had for Kay's affections went unrequited. As she learned from the records, Kay had dedicated his life to his job ever since the betrayal of the first MiB chief, Alpha. Thus, he adhered closely to MiB guidelines, one of which was no fraternizing between agents. Moreover, he had been going to meet his first love, Elizabeth Reston, when the Baltians first arrived in 1961. Part of him never quite let go of her. That said, Kay and Oh still flirted often, the attraction still visible, even to the other agents. Many of Oh's female peers in the office would gossip about the pair off and on.

Thankfully, when Eks retired in 1972, Zed took his place. Due to her substantial dealings with Torchwood and other agencies and governments, both terrestrial and not, he chose Agent O as his second-in-command. Zed and the other remaining original Men in Black, including Kay, felt that while she was young, her global perspective and experience could serve better in the leadership than in pure research. Though tentative at first, Oh accepted and has remained assistant chief to present.

As her recognition grew, her relationship with Kay sadly grew distant. Admittedly, she was busy with her work and he with his, but other events, and people, took their toll. The death of Col. James Edwards II struck a cord with Kay, particularly having to neuralize the man's young son.

Then, there was the Zarthan princess Lauranna, a topic Oh still refuses to discuss.

However, when Kay requested to be retired a few days ago, Oh was stunned. She knew he had been slowing down, but she had thought he might move into leadership or training rather than opt to be neuralized.

"This isn't like you, Kay," the assistant chief argued as she sat next to Zed during the meeting with Kay.

"I'm 57 years old, Oh," Kay retorted, "and I've been at this as long as Dee. I'd like to leave a good record behind."

"Just because you feel age creeping on you doesn't mean you have to quit. There are other jobs besides field work."

"And, I don't want them," he barked back. "I will not be stuck behind a desk or ordering a bunch of kids around."

Agent O was taken aback. She knew he took pride in his work, an aspect she appreciated as his supervisor, but she had not accounted for how that pride would affect his view of his job. Her imagination then pictured Agent K, the closer of so many legendary cases, reduced to teaching firearms safety or merely doing mundane paperwork. The image broke her heart.

Also, she would be lying if she said that she did not mind him leaving.

While she recovered from that emotional blow, Zed agreed to Kay's retirement, provided he trained a replacement. Ever ready, Kay had already chosen a successor in James Edwards III, the same young man he neuralized in 1969. Deep in her heart, she knew that debt of honor would be repaid in due time. Now a New York police officer, James had already been approached by Kay, who gave him a business card in the usual MiB way. He should arrive the next morning for testing and, if all went well, a job offer.

However, Oh was about to go off-duty after 24 hours in the office. If Kay's retirement finalized in the next two days, she would likely never see him again. A dread loomed in her chest as the meeting adjourned. While Zed left the office, Oh grasped Kay's arm, stopping him.

"Kay," she started unsure of her words, "please reconsider this."

With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze with a tired look in his eyes. "I've made my decision, Oh."

"And, I respect that," she said halfheartedly, "but that doesn't…"

Turning to her, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Despite his stone-faced exterior, the veteran agent still had a heart, particularly for her.

"… doesn't make it any easier," he finished for her.

In one last bold move, she snaked her arms around him and kissed him, the first and only time in their 30 years of flirtations. He reciprocated, holding her close as a tear rolled down from her eye. There they stood, sharing that one moment that would never come again.

As they broke the kiss, Kay wiped that tear from her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," he whispered. "I'll miss you."

Watching him leave, she admitted to herself, No, you won't.

For the next two days, Agent O retired to her covert abode in a nearby apartment building managed by the MiB. As assistant chief, her work hours overlapped with Zed's in such a way that one would be active while the other slept and recuperated. During the overlap time, they would brief one another on recent cases and would schedule any meetings that required the input of both. Alone amongst her memorabilia from past cases, even some from her brief time with Torchwood, Oh tried in vain to put Kay out of her mind, to think about other times and other people. However, his face kept creeping into her mind. Even her dreams brought him back to her, giving her little rest.

While she was away, Kay and his trainee Jay handled the assassination of Gentle Rosenberg, and the rookie proved to be worthy of his mentor's recommendation. When she returned to work, the duo had already raced to save a Dr. Laurel Weaver from the assassin's clutches. Immediately, she set to handling diplomacy with the Arquillian battle cruiser in orbit. The ultimatum deadline was fast approaching, and she pushed for every second she could earn through her words. Sadly, the Arquillians rarely changed their ultimata after issuing them, even with her skills as a negotiator.

Thankfully, Kay called Zed after obtaining the Galaxy, the Arquillian's treasure and the assassin's actual goal. Oh, in turn, signaled the Arquillians to send an ambassador to receive the Galaxy fob upon its arrival at Battery Park.

Yet, this victorious news came laced with a somber truth. Kay also confirmed his retirement by affirming the completion of Jay's training. Moreover, he had been impressed by Dr. Weaver's part in stopping the assassin and recommended that she too be offered a chance at the MiB. Zed bestowed the honor of making the offer to Oh, thinking the senior female agent would be the most appropriate figure for the task.

Steeling herself, Oh joined Zed in welcoming Jay and Laurel to the Battery Park headquarters. Kay was nowhere to be seen.

It's already done then, she told herself.

While the chief escorted the newly minted agent into headquarters, the assistant chief drove the good doctor home, giving her the usual pitch for the Men in Black. When the mortician asked about Kay, Oh kept her answer as vague as she could, maintaining her professional facade despite the sadness she carried inside.

For the next few hours before sunrise, Oh drove the Crown Victoria through Manhattan, just thinking. Laurel had asked if the job was "worth it", and without hesitation, Oh had answered "yes". At this early hour, the roads were almost devoid of traffic, letting her drive through downtown without much effort. This left her mind to ponder that question more fully. Yes, she still believed the job had merit, to protect the planet from the scum of the universe, to give asylum to those beings who have nowhere else to go. She had met so many creatures from distant worlds and backgrounds, finding each a home here in this very city.

Then, she weighed the personal cost. In 30 years since leaving Torchwood, she had watched several friends and colleagues come and go. Some retired like Eks, Dee, and Kay, retaking their civilian lives. Others were killed in the field. Since becoming assistant chief, a portion of those losses became Oh's responsibility.

Today, her burden seemed much heavier.

As the sun rose, Oh returned to Laurel's apartment as arranged. In her pocket, she kept a neuralizer in case the offer was denied, but pleasantly, it was unnecessary.

"I'm in," the doctor announced.

At least there is a silver lining, Oh admitted to herself.

"Welcome to the Men in Black," her new mentor answered with a soft smile.

After leaving Dr. Weaver in the hands of the training team, Agent O seated herself across from Zed for their usual briefing. She had thought most of the discussion would be in regard to returning dignitaries and the apologies of the Arquillian ambassadors, perhaps even some words about Jay or his mortician friend.

Much to the contrary, another problem had arisen.

"We have a new wrinkle in that Arquillian mess from last night," Zed haggardly spoke.

"Disregarding the alien battleship and the giant insect," Oh sarcastically inquired, "I could only assume that Boris the Animal escaped LunarMax."

"No, more like Lauranna turning up on your doorstep."

The assistant chief glared coldly at her only superior. Given the events of the past few days, she had little patience for talk of the Zarthans, let alone that woman.

"I have half a mind to slap you," she declared.

"Go ahead," he retorted as he slid a manila folder across the table to her. "It might keep me awake."

Taking the folder, she was greeted with the criminal record of Galaxy Police Case #80812029, "Ryoko Ryua", a young space pirate from the Jurai Empire.

"We have this little hellcat locked away downstairs," the chief explained. "She got a little too close to the Arquillians last night."

"I don't see a problem, Zed," she stated while skimming the file. "We stick her in LunarMax and wait for Matsu to pick her up."

"There's where the wrinkle is," the lead agent teased as he pointed back to the file. "She wasn't alone. She had two accomplices with her, and both escaped into the city. She claims one of them is…"

"… Princess Ayeka from Jurai," Oh finished, her eyes reading through the documents on the coup d'etat on Jurai. After the assassination of Rosenberg, an Arquillian prince, a Juraian princess lost in Manhattan was hardly the public relations nightmare the MiB needed next.

"Like I said," Zed reiterated gravely, "Lauranna all over again."

Despite her feelings on the subject, the assistant chief knew the gravity of the situation. Ayeka was a foreign dignitary, royalty, not unlike Rosenberg or Lauranna. When Serleena murdered Lauranna under MiB's guard, backlash swept through the galactic community. "Earth is unsafe," some said. "They let her die," others whispered. Of course, the Zarthans were upset, but far too busy with their war against Kyloth to worry about Earth. Also, Zartha was a relatively small in the grand scheme. In the case of Rosenberg, he was not under guard and his importance was never shared with the MiB.

But, Jurai was anything but small. The Jurai Empire spanned much of the Milky Way, larger than almost every other major power in the galaxy. Politically, they were fairly isolationist, keeping to their own affairs for the last century. Militarily, few other fleets could compare with the might of Jurai, making them seem nearly invincible. Making an enemy of them would be a fatal mistake.

And, Jurai would likely be more than upset if harm came to Ayeka. She was once heir to the throne and returned to undo the overthrow of her nation, restored the monarchy, healed the unrest. Despite relinquishing the throne to her great-uncle, many in the Jurai Empire and abroad held her in high regard.

"Do we know where she is?" Oh asked.

"Not yet," Zed replied. "I put three units on the streets looking for someone fitting her description. Everyone else is tied up with returning dignitaries and residents." He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to drop this on you after…"

The English lady coolly gazed back at him, unmoved. "He'd want us to do the job, yes?"

Somberly, her superior silently concurred.

"Then, you get some rest," she advised. "I'll handle this situation."

"Alright," he conceded, "but just remember that the rest of us work here too."

"I'll keep that in mind."

As Zed stood to leave, he watched Oh shuffling through the documents on Ryoko, familiarizing herself with the pirate. Though tired, he worried about her. Kay chose a horrible time to retire, and the chief knew she would take it hard. Like with Jay, Zed hoped Oh would not lose her composure at an inopportune moment. However, unlike Jay, she was a veteran and professional agent. He was confident she could keep herself together in this minor crisis.

For now, the old soldier could use a beer, to toast his friend's retirement, and a long sleep, to clear his mind of this wretched affair.