All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.

Happy thanksgiving to all my fellow Americans, enjoy your turkey, pie, and double helping of Tank Bowl (NBA on NBC theme from 1991 starts to play).

Bladewolf101: I was worried this might happen, Crimson was one of the Apex Predators that came with the IMC invasion, his Titan was knocked out by Spider-Man and the X-Men before he was captured by Taskmaster. So he was a bad guy and always will be a bad guy. As for Miles Morales, I have no idea, I really wasn't impressed with the story and haven't decided what to do. If I ever do have it where Matt marries Felicia and they have a kid, that will be the end of the story where the hero has ridden off into the sunset, so it could happen, but it's a ways off.

MarauderPrime12: Yeah, she did, she should probably know better. Glad you enjoyed the chapter.

ScreamingStuka: It was an Ace Combat reference, expect to see more. As for the A-10, I have it there for a reason, though saying what it is would be a bit of a spoiler. The Symkarian Civil War should be fun to write once I get to it, the IMC battle was asymetric whereas this will have the two sides on fairly even footing, cutting edge tanks against early versions of Titans. You really ever expect any conversation with Felicia to not be a little bit odd? And yes, I went for the obvious prequel memes joke, the whole scene was meant to be kept light and that worked. I feel it was implied in the game that Osborn stepped down, it just makes the most sense, similarly, the Regeneration tidbit made sense and has a lot of long term potential.

NoahRed: Interesting, I appreciate the feedback. Though I can't say I share the same feelings about Miles as a character or the quality of the story. If I did it, I would have to make some changes, a lot of changes. For all of the good gameplay Miles Morales had, the story, and especially the characters, were a big step back, and by a step back I mean that they actively hurt the quality of some characters. If you want more detailed thoughts, PM me, and I can give them to you.

Blaze1992: Why? We need bad guys for the good guys to fight. Spider-Man is going to need Green Goblin and the Marauder and BT are going to need to fight other Titans.

This is a bit of a random chapter, lots of scatterbrained thoughts to set things up paired with some lighter moments, expect to read that a lot until everything is properly set up. There are more plot threads that will come into play down the line and since I can't set them up once I get into the City That Never Sleeps, I need to set them up beforehand. I also managed to sneak in a few cameos otherwise that were fun.

For the title, there is some really classic rock from the band Boston. One of their first songs from their self titled debut album, More Than a Feeling is a great, soulfull rock and roll track from the seventies. All about discontent and being reminded of a past love by a song, it's just a classic that's really easy to lose yourself in. All that is well and good, but as my old man often says, "nothing sounds quite like Boston."


Power Without Question – Chapter 74: More Than a Feeling

So many people have come and gone

Their faces fade as the years go by

Yet I still recall as I wander on

As clear as the sun in the summer sky

It's more than a feeling, more than a feeling

When I hear that old song they used to play, more than a feeling

And I begin dreaming, more than a feeling

'Til I see Marianne walk away

I see my Marianne walkin' away


Swinging through the city, Spider-Man kept his head on the swivel as he made his way to the lab, going this way since it was still his fastest method of getting around the city and it allowed him to enjoy his commute a lot more enjoyable and speedy than Matt's Shelby Mustang. And, as he spotted a group of track suited men follow a woman into an alleyway, he didn't need a sixth sense to know that something was wrong. Immediately flipping back around, the Webhead fired a line of synthetic silk at the corner of the alley and swung inside, not at all surprised to see the lone woman surrounded and clutching her purse. "So guys," called out the Webslinger as he stuck to the wall and looked down in the alley, "can we make this quick? I'm late for work."

The terrified woman, along with the four men surrounding her, all looked up at the red and blue clad superhero with wide eyes as the eye lenses stared back, blinking once before the Queens Native behind them continued. "Tell you what, if anyone wants to walk away, just go ahead now, I don't even have time to chase." The four men shared looks before one lunged at the woman as she tried to make a break for it, grabbing her by the arms as Spider-Man fired a webline at the building behind her and zipped down like a missile, streaking in to deliver a single knockout punch that left the mugger slumped against the brick wall. Turning to the others, some small part of him was surprised that they were all still there. "Come on, she's got what? Maybe 200 bucks? That's like 75 a piece, is it really worth it?" he asked conversationally, putting himself between the woman and three remaining thugs as she made her escape.

A hum at the base of his skull caused his head to whip left as he saw his answer, with one of the muggers trying to rush him as the Wallcrawler reacted by jumping up and flipping around in an acrobatic bicycle kick. His foot slammed into the man's head, knocking him out cold as Spider-Man landed in a crouch and looked up, "seriously? I've been more than reasonable…"

"Shut the fuck up!" roared one of the two remaining thugs as he reached for something in his coat, only for an impact web to slam into his hand and pin it to his chest as he was launched back and was rolling across the ground. The last remaining man pulled out a switchblade and pressed the button as his face twisted into a sneer.

Faced with this weapon, Spidey couldn't help but giggle as he held up a finger, "one sec, let me get this straight," began the Webehad, "not three weeks ago I fought and beat not one, not two, but six supervillains. And now you think you're going to beat me with a knife?" he asked incredulously. When the thug opened his mouth to answer, the Wallcrawler fired a burst of webbing that covered it before a line from his other webshooter hit his chest as the superhero zipped forwards and planted a foot in his chest, sending him flying into a dumpster. Taking a second to empty the remainder of the cartridges to ensure none of the men escaped before the police arrived, Spider-Man got a ringing in his ear, and when he saw who it was, he sighed as he fired a webline and swung off, answering the call and beginning preamble. "Hey Coop, so I might have gotten a little distracted…"


The Texan on the other end of the line groaned, "seriously dude? 'Distracted'?" he asked as he twirled his Sig nervously. "SHIELD is supposed to be here any minute and I'm sure they're going to be thrilled that you're late," deadpanned the Pilot sarcastically. Looking over at the fully kitted out set of black and silver armor, Cooper was distinctly proud of the work that he and Peter had done on the suit, all while frustrated at his friend's tardiness.

"Uhh…" answered Peter, who still didn't have a good grasp of this whole 'punctual' thing despite going on at length about 'responsibility.' "Well, I'm still a few minutes out. If they get there…I don't know. Stall them or something?" suggested the Queens Native.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "how the hell do you suggest that I do that?" he said just as there was a knock on the door, "oh shit. They're here," informed the Texan, "hustle up, I'll think of something." With that, Cooper hung up and pocketed his phone, straightening his jacket to conceal the Sig that sat snugly in his shoulder holster as he approached the door, taking a breath as he opened the door to find two people standing there, neither of which he recognized. In front was a man in a suit and black tie, shades covering his eyes and a high and tight haircut making him look stern, serious, and professional. Behind him was a blonde, similarly dressed in a smart looking business suit, but both had SHILED badges visible and small bulges that were the telltale sign that they too were packing heat. "Can I help y'all?" drawled Cooper with forced easiness.

The man in front removed his sunglasses, "I'm Agent Phil Coulson with SHIELD," introduced the first man as he looked over Matthew with analytical eyes. "Are you Mr. Parker?" he asked.

"Ah…no I'm not," replied Matthew, "Pete's running late…as usual, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the moment," explained the Pilot as he offered his hand, "Matthew Cooper."

Coulson gave a polite smile and friendly handshake before Matt stepped aside to allow him in and offered his hand to the blonde, who gave it a terse shake and introduced herself. "Agent Sharon Carter," introduced the woman shortly before stepping past brusquely. Looking around, the blonde asked, "I assume you know why we're here?"

"I do," drawled Matt with a nod, "it's right over here," he prompted as he led the pair towards the War Machine armor. "In case you're wondering, Pete gave me a call and asked for a bit of help sorting out the armaments for that suit he's been working on. It's pretty slick," he commented, playing for time.

"Uh huh," returned Carter, "and what exactly are your qualifications for doing that kind of work?" she inquired skeptically.

"I'm from Texas," deadpanned Cooper with a completely straight face, getting a pair of surprised looks back from the SHIELD Agents. Cracking a small grin, Matt rounded the corner, "well here it is, I can't run through all the stuff Peter did, but he busted his ass to get this thing done."

Coulson looked over the suit while Carter, who probably didn't like him very much, glared at him accusingly. "Well, how about you tell us what you did for weapons while we wait for Mr. Parker?" suggested the suited man as Matt grinned.

"I thought you'd never ask," replied the Pilot as he rubbed his hands giddily, "alright, so I'm gonna start from the bottom and work my way up. Down here on the left arm is a Brugger and Thomet MP9, paired with a proprietary 40mm belt fed grenade launcher. There's a twin feed for the forty so you can switch between two types of ammo on the fly," explained Cooper as he opened up the armored panel to show the mechanism inside. "On the other arm here is a CBJ-MS loaded up with 6.5mm armor piercing paired with a high intensity direct energy beam weapon. That beam will cut through about six inches of homogenous steel plate at 500 yards after about a 2 second charge up time. This is the suits most powerful anti-armor weapon system." Coulson nodded approvingly while Carter remained cool, but almost seemed mildly impressed as Cooper grabbed the six barrels of the M134 and gave them a twist, "this is just a standard M134D here on the right shoulder mount, the targeting can either be slaved to where the operator is looking or turned over to whatever targeting system Pete cooked up. Ammo is stored here in this armored backpack, with an extra plate to protect the wearer as well. The whole pack can be swapped out for a rapid resupply if need be. But there's more than just seven six two in here," said the Texan as he tapped the pack, "there's also the 30mm rockets for this puppy, belt fed micro missile launcher, real nasty for things like light vehicles or aircraft. Targeting is the same as the one three four." With that done, Matt pointed at the big metal box sitting on a hand trolley in the corner, "the spare backpack is over there, inside is all the spares for the proprietary weapons and a bit of extra ammo too. Pete said y'all worked out a deal for more of this stuff down the line…"

Matt was interrupted by the sound of the door being thrown open at Peter stumbled in, clearly disheveled as his lab coat collar was half up and his hair definitely looked like he had just yanked his mask off, which he probably had. "Uh…hello," he greeted as he tried to straighten his lab coat and fix his hair, to mixed results, "you two must be from SHIELD. I hope Coop here hasn't been too forthcoming with his opinions on Federal Agents…"

"At least they aren't the FBI…" grumbled the Texan with only a small hint of malice.

Coulson offered a small, semi awkward smile, "Mr. Cooper has been fine," assured Coulson. "I assume you're Mr. Parker?" he asked, getting a quick nod in reply, "I'm Agent Coulson, this is Agent Carter," he introduced before turning back to the black and grey suit, "he was just finishing up going through the parts he was responsible for. I would appreciate it if you could go over the rest of the things you worked on," prompted the suited SHIELD Agent.

"Ah, yeah, sure thing…" began Peter as he dug out one of the tablets and pulled up the list of things he had done. "Well, I gave it a software update and a new CPU that allows for it to detect and track a lot of target, 512 I think, and automatically engage the highest priority with the guns there," explained Peter as he pointed to the Minigun and Sidewinder. "It can detect these with the suit's own sensors or from allies with a Multifunction Advanced Data Link."

"And what about the suit itself?" asked Carter.

"Okay, so on that front, I didn't do as much. Structurally the suit is fine," explained Peter, "but…but there were a few changes, under the skin so to speak are new servos and motors for joint and control flap articulation. This suit was never capable of high flight speeds, mainly just hovering and some low speed maneuvering, and those abilities shouldn't be affected by everything. The software for all that has been modified to take the weight of all this into account so the additional weight of the ammunition won't cause stability and even if some ammo is used the control flaps will keep the suit balanced in flight…"

"Pete," interjected Matthew dryly, "you made it so it can still fly, we got it."

Looking at the SHIELD agents and the sight of their eyes starting to glaze over had the Queens Native reddening slightly as he cleared his throat and got back on track. "Other than that, most of my work was upgrading the protection. Since this suit isn't made of the Gold Titanium alloy on the later Iron Man suits it had armor plate bolted on. That's been changed, most of what you see on the outside is a thin 'skin' of metal. Beneath that is a ceramic composite lattice that…"

"I think we get the picture," interrupted Coulson, "is that right Agent Carter?" he asked, getting a nod back from the blonde in reply. Smiling, the Agent continued, "you've done splendid work Mr. Parker, I'm sure the Director will be pleased."

"As much as he ever can be," muttered Carter under her breath, getting a slight chuckle from Coulson.

"Quite so," agreed Coulson, "anyways, I would appreciate it if you two could help us load this into our vehicle. I'm not quite as young as I used to be."


The sound of the bell hanging over the door caused Mary Jane to look up from her cherry coke and past the platinum blonde across from her to see two men enter Mick's Diner. Peter came in first, giving her a smile and wave before Matt followed him through the door and to the table where Felicia and MJ were sitting and joining them so that the two couples were sitting across from each other. "You're late," informed the Associate Editor flatly, "everything go alright?"

Peter nodded, "yeah, just had to help load everything up, pack the spares, and…I…might have been a bit late getting there," admitted Peter sheepishly. "I was dealing with a mugging!" he amended quickly when Mary Jane's expression began to turn more serious. She was trying to break that chronic late streak he had going, but the redhead was beginning to think that was beyond her capabilities. Still, she kept up her stern expression as Peter opened his mouth to reply when the waitress came up behind them and cleared her throat to get the table's attention, "oh, uh…can we get two cokes please?" asked Peter, pointing to Matthew and himself, "and for food…"

"Don't worry about that hon," replied the waitress with a smile, "your girls already ordered for you. The food should be out in a few minutes."

"Ah, okay, thanks," replied Peter as the waitress left to grab their drinks and he turned back to grab a fry from the basket in the center of the table, "but it went fine, really. Matt had to stall a bit, but he did great. Ah, thanks," he said as their sodas arrived and the Webslinger took a sip of his drink, "isn't that right Coop?"

"Generally," agreed the Texan, though his blue eyes said that there was more to it than that. "Assuming, of course, that you leave out how he wasn't much help getting that heavy ass suit loaded," deadpanned Cooper before leaning in and whispering quietly, "you really couldn't have used a bit of your super strength?"

The two women giggled a bit as Peter retorted, "no, they might have gotten suspicious," insisted the Wallcrawler. Matt rolled his eyes, "we managed in the end. Just think of it as an extra workout," suggested Peter.

Matt's unamused expression was something Mary Jane found greatly amusing, and the redhead was fighting a losing battle to keep a straight face. "Well I for one don't mind you getting a workout," said Felicia as she wrapped a hand around Matt's arm and gave it a squeeze, "and now that you're done with that I get more time with you." The Heiress had a gleam in her green eyes that MJ recognized before the platinum blonde turned to point an accusing finger at Peter, "and you had better do the same with her Spider," instructed the Thief seriously.

Peter's eyes widened comically as he turned to Mary Jane, who was giving him a serious look along with both Felicia and Matthew, "I can take a day off from the Bugle and the two of us can have some fun Tiger," added MJ easily, flashing him an encouraging smile.

After a brief moment, Peter relented, "since I make my own hours, I guess I can take a day off, how about Friday? We can head down to Cony Island," he suggested.

"It's a date," replied the Associate Editor with a smile before she heard the short order cook ring the ready bell and saw their food sitting on the counter. Seeing as the waitress wasn't around, the redhead gave her boyfriend a gentle elbow to the ribs, not that she would be able to hurt him if she tried, and said, "go grab that, would you Pete?"

The two men stood to grab the food as Stan smiled warmly, "happy to have you back son," said the older man, his thinning white hair and deep wrinkles not dampening his spirits, "you and Mary Jane over there always were my favorites." Peter smiled and took the plates Stan pushed forward before the cook looked at Matthew with an appraising eye. "You aren't from around here, are you?" he asked, to which the Texan shook his head. "I see," replied Stan with a nod, "be careful son, it's a crazy world out there."

Matt chuckled, "I will. You take care too old timer," replied the Texan as he grabbed the two plates that were left and returned to the table and sat down, setting the salad he had down in front of Felicia and keeping the pasta dish he had for himself. Looking around at the food on the table before going to the restaurant around him, Matt's brow furrowed in confusion, "since when is this an Italian place?" he asked incredulously.

Mary Jane shrugged as she forked a piece of chicken into her mouth and pondered the question. "Since…just over two months ago I think," she answered, but that didn't sound right. It couldn't really have been a month since Doc Ock had been put in prison, could it? But she looked at her watch and saw the date, and indeed it had. Shaking off that thought, Mary Jane continued, "before that it a burger place, except a couple years ago it was seafood."

"Hey, didn't it used to be like a traditional diner back when we were at Midtown?" interjected Peter, "like, homestyle breakfast and chicken fried steak?"

The redhead sipped her cherry coke and hummed an agreement, "you're right. I kinda miss when it was like that," she admitted, fondly thinking back to the old times with her and Peter dating for the first time. Happily working through her meal, the Associate Editor finally looked up at the couple sitting across from them, "what about you two? Got anything planned?" asked the redhead curiously.

Matt stopped eating mid bite, eyes wide as he shrugged haplessly, looking sideways at the platinum blonde next to him who happily swallowed her bit of salad and smiled brightly. "I do actually, and I haven't even told him yet," revealed Felicia with a gleam in her eye. Peter and MJ exchanged glances, "want to see?" A round of nods came back in reply and the heiress reached into her purse to produce some papers that she gave to Matthew.

The Texan unfolded them and began to read through them, his mouth dropping open before the beginnings of a laugh rumbled from his chest. "Well," prompted MJ excitedly, "what is it?"

"They're plane tickets," replied Matt as he wrapped and arm around Hardy and pulled her closer, "to DFW."

"Pack your boots cowboy," advised Felicia, "because next week, we're going to Texas."


Grimacing, Norman Osborn read the latest email of another contract that had been bought out so a corporate partner could disassociate themselves from Oscorp. Even with the charges against him and his company having been quietly dropped, his PR mop up campaign still had a ways to go to make his company anything but an albatross in the public eye. There was nothing to do except hope that he could weather the storm for the next six to eight months before getting more contracts to secure more capital. Pulling up his next message, he quickly scanned over it, an update on the first batches of new ammunition to be shipped to Silver Sablinova the next week. His scientists had adopted Sable's proprietary energy warhead technology to new systems, RPGs, tank and artillery ammunition, and aircraft ordinance. While others were cutting ties with his company, the Symkarian was asking more and more of him, and with excess manufacturing capacity, the former Mayor of New York City was secretly grateful to have the steady stream of business her upcoming war would provide.

But he still couldn't help but shake his head at the reversal, when he had made that deal with Sable, he had hoped to keep her in debt to him by being one of her first, and Osborn had hoped, only sources of supplies and equipment. Now, he was reliant on that deal to keep his company afloat lest he be forced to sell off assets. His scientists were also being tasked with creating new systems with the first bits of technology successfully reverse engineered from scavenged IMC equipment. Earlier that morning he had been briefed on 'Project Olympus,' a proposal to create the next generation of soldier. The project was expected to bear fruit early the next year, taking heavy inspiration from the ambitious old Future Force Warrior program to yield the next generation of warfighter with Sable International being the first expected customer.

The security contractor was also the intended buyer for Oscorps first foray into manufacturing an armored fighting vehicle, the 'Mako' concept. A six-wheel drive infantry fighting vehicle meant to fulfill the fast scouting role over the roughest terrain, emphasizing extreme mobility by using lightweight armor composites, a compact power plant, and, quite ambitiously, vertical thrusters. Osborn hoped that Sablinova could successfully use this equipment so he could market it to other forces, a few big contracts would rocket Oscorp back up into profitability very quickly indeed.

More important to the man personally was work on understanding 'Regeneration.' And the next email the CEO read was from the lead of that project, Dr. Morgan Michaels, who was slowly working through the data in order to try and replicate the specified processes. The man gave an optimistic assessment saying that the first treatments could be ready by the end of the next year. That little 'gift' didn't change Norman's perception of the man who had given it to him, but the billionaire had more pressing matters to tend with, such as personally continuing his work on GR-27 in his private lab.

All that was left to figure out was where one of the genetically modified spiders he was studying, number 12, was.


Pulling his baseball cap down low to shield his face, Frank Castle shifted the strap of the duffel bag he was carrying on his shoulder as he crossed the street, approaching the Dogs of Hell Club, easily identifiable by its neon sign and row of Harley Davidsons parked out front. Walking past the bikes, the Marine headed down the alleyway alongside the club before stopping beside a window and looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching before slamming his elbow into the window, cracking the glass with his first strike before breaking it with the second and reaching his hand inside to unlock the latch before throwing it open. Tossing the bag he was carrying inside, Frank made sure nobody was paying attention before he clambered into the window after it. Finding himself inside a small storeroom, the Punisher set to work, unzipping his jacket to reveal the skull faced ballistic vest he wore beneath it before crouching down next to the bag. Opening the duffel, Castle pulled out the belt that had magazines, flashbangs, a canteen, and a flare before fastening it around his waist. Next came a pistol holster that the Marine strapped around his thigh before fishing his M45A1 MEUSOC out of his jacket and stuffing the .45 caliber handgun into the holster before reaching into the bag again. Producing a suppressed G36C carbine in one hand and a translucent 30 round magazine in the other. Slamming the mag home and pulling back the charging handle, Frank unfolded the skeleton stock and pressed it to his shoulder before moving to the door, now fully armed and dangerous.

Opening the door and snapping up the compact German assault rifle, Castle scanned the hallway for any sign of members of the biker gang he was here to exterminate. The Dogs of Hell were old foes of the Punisher, recently rebuilt and expanding again into the drug trade with the demise of Wilson Fisk, and Castle was here to send the Dogs straight back to hell. Moving swiftly through the halls of the club, Frank only stopped when he heard voices behind one of the doors he was passing. Coming to a halt and pressing himself to the wall and slowly turning the door handle before throwing the door open, sweeping inside and snapping up the G36 at the first denim vested biker and pulled the trigger, putting a pair of 5.56mm rounds through his skull as the man dropped to the ground as the other two reacted, the one furthest back fumbled as he pulled a gun only for the Punisher to stitch four rounds up his chest as he spun and had his blood splatter across the wall behind him. The third and final Dog lunged for a knife on the table and swiped it at the Punisher who sidestepped and planted a round in the biker's head. Instantly dropping dead, the man fell across the table as the knife clattered to the floor.

Letting the carbine hang from its sling, Frank pulled the body off the table and then shoved the wooden piece of furniture aside to reveal a door into the basement. Readying his long gun, Castle opened the door with his free hand to reveal a flight of stairs into the well-lit lower level and quickly descended. Jumping down the last few steps, an unknown called out to him, "Pope? That you?" Moving quickly, Castle darted away as a door was unlocked and opened to reveal another denim vested biker, shaved and tattooed head appearing in the doorway before Frank threw a punch that sent the man into a daze and the G36C coughed once, putting a round through his knee. "Fuck!" screamed the man as he stumbled and fell backwards, and Castle pulled the pin on a flashbang and tossed it into the room. When the M84 detonated, Frank leaned out and cut loose with the carbine, letting a long string of rounds fly as 5.56 peppered the three other Dogs of Hell in the room before the bolt locked open, the last of the brass falling on the floor as Frank fingered the mag release and swapped magazines before dropping the bolt and sweeping the gun across the room and, satisfied that only the original biker was still breathing, entered and approached the wheezing and crawling biker.

"Open this safe," ordered Castle coldly as he rolled the man onto his back with his boot, leveling the suppressed carbine. "You hard of hearing asshole?" snarled the Punisher as he reached out with his left hand and grabbed the man by his collar and dragged him across the floor towards the 6 foot tall fireproof safe sitting in the corner.

Not too gently giving an encouraging boot to the man's ribs, Castle stepped back and kept his gun trained on the man, "okay, okay!" pleaded the Biker as he pulled himself up to the dial lock and turned to look at the skull vested Marine. "If I do this they're gonna kill me…" he began the G36 coughed once and a bullet snapped past his head and ricocheted off as Castle's scowl deepened and the Biker blanched before swallowing and turning to slowly work the dial as he was propped up by his one good leg. After a tense minute, the lock clicked, and the Biker yanked the handle and the door popped open. "This means that you'll let me go," began the Dog of Hell as he looked back at the Punisher, "right?"

Frank's eyes narrowed, "wrong," he growled before pulling the trigger, putting a single round through the man's forehead and drilling a third eye as he slumped down, dead. Slinging the carbine over his shoulder, the Punisher grabbed the boxes of sensitive materials inside. Blackmail, contacts, the vital private information that they needed to run their criminal expansion into the city. With calm precision, Frank dumped the contents of those boxes and everything else in the safe out onto the table alongside the drugs and cash that were already neatly arranged on top. When that was done, he took the canteen from his belt and unscrewed the cap, pouring the contents out over the piles of stuff as the distinct aroma of gasoline filled the room.

Frank was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the figure that was now standing in the doorway. "So it looks like you've been busy," said a smooth voice as Frank snap drew his MEUSOC .45 and leveled it at the source, a smirking redhead in a trench coat that seemed unfazed by the gun, "I'm with SHIELD, we need you to come in and Director Fury sent me to pick you up. You almost done?" she asked.

"Almost," he grunted back as he holstered the handgun, keeping an eye on the woman as he pulled out the flare he had brought and unscrewed the cap, "you may wanna look away," he advised before igniting the flare and tossing it onto the gas soaked contraband. When the flames took hold and the money, papers, and drugs began to go up in smoke, Castle turned back to the SHIELD woman, "now I'm done," he grunted as he marched past her, "let's go."


"Foxtrot Mike-1 is on final approach now ma'am. They'll be on the ground in ten minutes," alerted the junior officer at Silver Sablinova's side. Before she could reply, there was a thunderous cacophony as three of the newly arrived T-84 tanks fired their main guns at targets a kilometer downrange. Many of the new vehicles were being put through their paces as the crews got familiar with them, and while it would be some time yet until they were fully ready for action, Sablinova was privately pleased with their rate of progress so far.

As the dust settled and the ringing in her ears subsided, Sablinova turned to the officer, "it would be best we do not keep them waiting," she replied before the Symkarian climbed into the transport she had taken out to the range as the armored vehicle came to life and smoothly set off, carrying her and a few others back to await their guests imminent arrival. As the vehicle made its way back to the airfield that served as Sable International's main staging ground, Sablinova remained stoic faced as she watched the various other units go through their training. So far, the vehicles had all performed as promised, and Sable International would soon be giving them a once over, integrating the PMCs own communications and fitting energy weapons in place of the standard ballistic machine guns.

But all the hardware and training in the world would be for naught if the venture failed diplomatically, a fact Sablinova was reminded off as the vehicle left the dirt track and now smoothly glided over the asphalt of the airfield. Up ahead, a sleek rounded craft banked over a helicopter landing pad and descended vertically until it settled down and hovered just a few centimeters above the ground. Turning back to the troopers in the back, the woman straightened her beret and addressed the men, "make yourselves presentable," she ordered curtly as the truck came to a stop, "weapons safe troopers, get tactical."

Opening the door, the Symkarian stepped out, her face stoic as her troopers fell into formation behind her, weapons across their chests at port arms as the door at the rear of the aircraft before them began to lower, revealing the passengers inside. At the head of the group was a man dressed in traditional African garb, and behind him were four women, their heads all shaven, dressed in ornament adorned red dresses and wielding six foot long spears, all polished to a mirror shine. They stood in stark contrast to Sablinova's own guards and their laser pulse rifles and monolithic white ceramic composite armor, but Silver was under no disillusions that the women before her were capable warriors, equipped with some of the best technology the advanced African nation of Wakanda could offer, as befitting a kings personal guard. "Welcome to the 71st Air Base, currently serving as Sable Internationals Main Operating Base Citadel. This is our staging ground for the coming operation, if you would follow me, your highness."

"Of course, Princess," returned the man with a slight bow before turning to the women behind them and speaking in his native tongue before nodding and stepping forwards as Sable turned, the two walking side by side. "I did not expect you to greet me in person Princess Sablinova," admitted the man, "you must be very busy."

"Your presence warranted mine King T'Challa," replied Sable evenly as the two guards formed neat columns behind them, marching in their respective fashions after the two royal persons. "You asked for this meeting, I assume you have your reasons…" she prompted.

The Wakandan ruler hummed lowly as he looked around, eyes resting on the various men and vehicles around and on the base. "Director Fury approached me about a vote that Wakanda would be expected to be a part of as part of the UN Security Council." Smiling faintly, the Wakandan continued, "this vote was not on the scheduled docket, and while his resources are vast, he does not have…a crystal ball I believe is the phrase." Silver remained stoic, and soon T'Challa continued, "I refused to pledge Wakanda's support to any vote without knowing what it is I am voting for. My first impressions of you were…mixed," he said, though she could hear the strain in his voice, "but if your cause is just then you deserve the chance to explain your personal shortcomings."

His tone was not accusatory, mere calm and refined, and Sablinova let the insinuation roll off her as she responded coolly. "I merely want what is best for my people, my homeland…"

"And you believe that they are best left in the hands of a Mercenary?" asked T'Challa, "never mind one with your record."

"I do not believe that anyone else is willing to try," answered the Symkarian coolly. T'Challa had a reputation as an idealistic ruler, and as much as Sable was loath to admit it, his reservations were warranted. "And if nobody else is willing, then it is my experience that offers the best hope for Symkaria. Judge me how you will, but do not deny that there is no one else willing to undertake this mission and risk what I am about to," retorted the silver haired woman fiercely. "And this time, I am operating under my own authority. I will see to it that we do this the right way."

"Which is why you want Wakanda's vote on the Security Council," surmised T'Challa quickly. The African ruler fell quiet as a BTR rolled past, ensuring that there was no silence as the group approached Sablinova's headquarters, "my father always said that the true measure of a leader is what they are willing to risk, and I believe you speak the truth when you claim the risks you are taking. And you are only asking for our vote?" asked T'Challa skeptically.

"I am," affirmed Sablinova calmly, "can I count on it?"

T'Challa eyed it for a second before crossing his arms over his chest in a Wakandan salute, "you can."


Peter was distracted by the sound of MJ loudly slurping the last of her slushy as the couple walked through the carnival at Coney Island hand in hand. "Don't go too fast, you'll get a brain freeze," he warned lightly, only to get an eyeroll back from the redhead as she defiantly gulped down the last of the refreshment despite the chill in the fall air around them. Peter couldn't help but laugh at her as her eyes widened as she staggered, letting so of his hand as she grabbed her head. "Woah, steady there," coaxed Peter as he wrapped an arm around the redhead's waist as Mary Jane shook off the effects of the brain freeze and angrily threw the empty cup in a trash can, "I told you so."

The Associate Editor gave him a playful glare that quickly faded into a smile as she leaned into him, "why am I surprised that everyone finds you annoying when you're such a know it all Pete?" she asked rhetorically. Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed as she descended deeper into thought, "and what does it say about me that I find that kinda endearing?"

"It says you have a kind and understanding soul," answered Peter before pausing briefly, "or, at least a kinder and more understanding soul than the average supervillain," he amended, earning him a halfhearted slug in the arm that didn't even phase him. Sharing a laugh, the pair strolled past more of the amusement park. "This brings back memories, doesn't it?" asked Peter, getting a hum back in his ear in reply, "when was the last time we were here? Just after we graduated from ESU?"

A beat of silence between the followed as the redhead thought back on it, "yeah, I remember that time," she began before letting out a small laugh, "I mainly remember you abandoning me outside the bumper cars because you had to go deal with Scorpion. You always said you would make it up to me…" she prompted in a sing song voice.

Peter didn't argue, not that he would want to, "well no time like the present," he replied easily, "any suggestions on how I can do that?" he prompted. The redhead smirked and pointed at something behind him. Turning around, the Webhead's eyes widened, "seriously MJ?" he asked, getting a nod back as he looked at the 'High Striker' carnival game the redhead was pointing at. "I can't do that," he argued tersely.

The redhead wasn't pleased as she narrowed her eyes at the large stuffed bear that was the top prize before her gaze shifted back to her superpowered boyfriend, "why not?" she asked, lips set in a small pout.

Peter sighed, "you know why," he replied as he watched an ESU player in a football jacket take a swing with the hammer and fail to set off the bell at the top of the game. Looking back at his girlfriend, all Peter got were MJ's best puppy dog eyes, the ones he never had been able to resist. "Okay, you want the big one?" he asked, getting a smile and nod back, "alright, let's go," he beckoned, leading a beaming Mary Jane towards the game.

Walking up, he caught the tail end of the football players angary tirade against the man attending to the machine, "this is a damn ripoff, there isn't anyone who could possibly win!" he yelled as Peter fished out a couple of ones and paid the employee, who dutifully handed him the two handed wooden hammer while still wearing a bored expression. As the Queens Native stepped up to the High Striker game, the football player turned his attention towards him. "Don't even bother with it, dude. The thing's rigged," asserted the football player brashly as Pete got a feel for the hammer's weight and size to line up his swing, "not that it would make a difference to you. Even if it wasn't there's no way you could…" he continued as Peter swung with a fraction of his full strength, hitting the target dead center and sending the puck skyrocketing up and ringing the bell, cutting off the football player as he stared at Peter in disbelief before the last word fell out of his gaping mouth, "…win."

Fighting to conceal the grin on his face, Peter offered some advice as he passed the jock. "It's all about proper form. You really have to put your back into it," quipped the Webslinger as he returned the hammer to the employee and got the massive prize in return, all without that bored expression leaving his face. Peter would've chuckled if he wasn't faced with having to get a handle on the bulk of the comically oversized teddy bear, but once he did he turned to find Mary Jane at his side, beaming widely as he offered her the plushy. "There you are," he said as the redhead happily took the bear and tucked it under one arm before he took her free hand and the pair walked off, "if you don't mind me asking, what do want with that thing? Going to cuddle with it?" he asked teasingly.

The redhead shook her head emphatically, "probably not," she admitted, "after all, why would I do that Tiger, when I already have you to keep me warm?" she asked teasingly.

Peter could feel the heat rising up his neck as he cleared his throat and tried to think of a witty response. When that failed, all he said was, "maybe Matt had a point about you spending too much time with Felicia."


Cooper's Logbook – Vehicle: T-84 Oplot-M

Sable International managed to get their hands on a bunch of these Ukrainian made main battle tanks, and they are a capable third generation MBT on a par with western vehicles like the M1A2, Challenger 2, and Leopard 2A5, as well as post Cold War Russian vehicles like the T-90A. It has all the modern fix-ins, Explosive Reactive Armor (ERA) to degrade both kinetic and chemical penetrators, an Active Protection System (APS) to swat rockets flying at the vehicle, while thermal imagers, two axis stabilization for the main gun, and laser rangefinders allow the vehicle to put steel on target in any condition while on the move at distances in excess of a mile. Like most MBTs from the former Soviet Union the T-84 features a three man crew, commander, gunner, and driver, as well as an autoloading mechanism. An autoloader is what is says on the tin, it's a mechanical device that loads shells into the gun in place of a human loader. Though the T-84 features a new welded turret and autoloader system compared to it's predecessors, supplementing the traditional 'carousel' arrangement with a western style turret bustle to the rear.

But none of that is what makes this latest version of the T-84 interesting, the clusterfuck that is this thing's design lineage is what makes it interesting. The story of the T-84 actually starts with the T-64, a revolutionary and highly advanced tank when it came into service in 1963. It was the first vehicle in the world with composite armor, introduced a compact engine and transmission, had one of the first autoloading mechanisms, and was equipped with a powerful 125mm smoothbore gun. It's armor and firepower were considered equivalent to a 'heavy' tank such as the T-10, but it weighed only 38 tonnes compared to the T-10s 52. All this capability came at a high price, that being the high price of these vehicles. This led to the development of a less capable, but more economical vehicle in the form of the T-72. Following up from the T-64 was the T-80, and what made the T-80 special was the gas turbine engine it used. Gas turbines give a lot of power from a small and lightweight engine, but are fuel hungry and maintenance intensive. The issues were so problematic that the T-80 almost never came into being, nearly being killed off in the prototype stage when it was known as the Object 219. It was 'saved' by newly appointed Minister of Defense Dimitri Ustinov, who approved the Object 219 for production in 1976 as the T-80. At this point the T-80 lacked some of the upgrades of later versions of the T-64 it was originally based on, as well as being much more expensive than that already hideously costly vehicle. At the time, a T-80 cost 480,000 Rubles compared to 143,000 Rubles for a T-64, and by that point the T-64 had more advanced fire control than the newer T-80. When the Israeli army introduced ERA in the 1982 Lebanon war, this prompted the development of a Soviet response, Kontakt. The second generation of this ERA system, Kontakt-5, needed to be incorporated into a tank upon construction, prompting the design of the improved T-80U. Cost remained an issue, the T-80U was judged to be about 10% more effective than it's rival, the T-72B, but cost 824,000 Rubles compared to 280,000 Rubles for the T-72B.

It should be noted that anything you might have heard about these thanks should have a big friggin asterisk next to it, because if you base your opinions on the export models like the T-72M you should know that it is almost an entirely different tank. NATO found that even the vaunted 'Silver Bullet' 120mm sabot rounds that did so well in Desert Storm struggled against the T-80U.

That didn't help with the cost, but someone at the Kharkov tank factory got a bright idea. They saw that the V-46 Diesel engine of the T-72 cost about 10,000 Rubles, while the GTD-1000 gas turbine in the T-80 cost 104,000 Rubles, and for that increase in cost you got an engine that demanded more fuel, more maintenance, and had a shorter running life. Ustinov dug in his heels and insisted that turbines were the future, and when a study was prepared that found the budget for the next five year plan could buy the Red Army 2,500 tanks and 6,000 diesel engines or 1,500 tanks and 2,000 turbines, Ustinov declared that the latter option was preferred.

And then he died.

Immediately, approval was given to put a commercial turbo diesel engine in the T-80U and call it the T-80UD, meaning improved diesel, in 1985. However, this vehicle was going to be produced in Kharkov, and the Kharkov plant had a tradition of their vehicles having a designation ending in '4' that dated back to world war 2 and wanted to call this vehicle the T-84. The Red Army put up a bitter fight to prevent this so NATO didn't realize they would be operating no less than 4 different 'standard' tanks, the T-64, T-72, T-80, and this new T-84. These tanks were all effectively the same but for their engines, with the same gun, fire control, and ERA. It was such a contentious issue it went straight to the top, Gorbachev's Central Committee of the Communist Party made the final decision, and they sided with the army, officially making it the T-80UD.

Five years later, the Soviet Union fell apart, the Ukraine became it's own independent nation, Kharkov slapped that previously mentioned new turret on the T-80UD and called it the T-84 like they had always wanted to.

In a fantastic bit of irony, across the border in Russia, a new version of the T-72, the T-72BU, was redesignated T-90 and accepted for service. Meaning the Russian Army now had four 'standard' tanks just like they had wanted to avoid a decade prior.

In the post-Soviet Ukraine, the T-84 went through a few upgrades over the years to keep it up to date with other MBTs, leading to the Oplot and Oplot-M versions. Sable International got the latest version, the Oplot-M after Pakistan cancelled their order after the majority if the tanks had been produced and were fitting out, allowing the PMC to take delivery of the vehicles very quickly. In addition to the large 125mm smoothbore gun and exceptional speed of the T-84, which comes from the monstrous 26 hp/tonne power to weight ratio, Sable International has modified these vehicles to suit their own needs. Additional armor as been installed at the rear of the fighting compartment to prevent penetrations from hits that strike the engine deck that knocked out many T-80s in Grozny. The ballistic machine guns have been replaced with pulse laser equivalents that allow an effectively greater amount of ammunition for these weapons to be carried. The PMCs proprietary communications gear is also incorporated, being fitted once the interiors were given a once over and reorganized somewhat. While not a roomy vehicle by any stretch, Sable managed to allow for people taller than 5 foot 8 inches to actually fit in the damn things.

In case you couldn't keep track of all that, I'll put it in simple terms. Sable International has a modified version of a tank that is an improved model of a tank that is itself a variant of a tank which was a reengined adaptation of a tank that was an upgraded model of a tank that was originally a differently powered development of a totally different tank.

Jesus, just reading that fucking sentence makes me want a drink.


Closing Notes: I will admit that the Logbook is just as padded as the rest of the chapter kind of is, but hopefully everything isn't moving along too slowly. Though do expect the Logbooks to be longer as I get to ramble on at great length about various pieces of hardware that Sable International will bring to bear down the line. The plan there is that Sable will be the advanced, if recognizably conventional, military force against the experimental, almost sci-fi equipped opposition. Though everything I talked about as far as the design lineage of the T-84 is true, and most of it comes from Jingles' Youtube video on the T-80. As for why I chose for Sablinova to buy T-84s, well, she doesn't have the ability to support a turbine powered tank, so no T-80U or M1A2 Abrams. I am of the belief that autoloaders are the future, eliminating most western tanks like Challenger 2 and Leopard 2A5. I did consider the Leclerc, but that thing is costly and ugly, the various Chinese MBTs were also eliminated for the same reasons. So I was left with the T-90 and the T-84, and went with the -84 because it's not talked about as much, and I trust the Ukranians to make some good stuff.

As for other stuff, yes, that was meant to be a Stan Lee cameo, and I did shoehorn T'Challa in, but his role is strictly a cameo, don't expect to see the Black Panther show up, I was just going for a contrast between two different leaders, both of which are royalty. As for contrasts and references, the biggest is definitely meant to be the Punisher and Black Widow, which was an idea I got from an animated movie. The movie was fine enough, but it seemed like a good enough set up, especially considering Frank's opinions of spooks.

But most importantly, next week, Matt and Felicia visit the best state in the Union. God Bless Texas.

Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.