Okaaaaaaaaay fans, fun lovers, and thrill seekers all across the blue green ball we live on. Its time for another excursion into the lives our chagrin FBI agent and lovable fuzzball alien. That's a weird way to describe her. I know. Anyway! This chapter is Bigger! Badder! and Better! (for all you fans of the "Mad Mod" episode). And to those highly kind reviewers; Realfanficts, BonitaChickia, Cartoonfire, ThEnAmEsGiGI, A Little Mind, Bella-Rose, Skyler-A-Teloiv. I say thank you to you all. Enjoy!

Chapter Nine

Clans

Koma stepped out of the store and back into the nighttime air. She cared not if anyone saw her take flight into the sky. As far as she was concerned, these human had better get used to it. For the moment however, that mission would have to be put on hold, for now……..she had a sister to find.

Logan walked back into the darkened confines of the team's office. They were allotted a fairly large space in which to work. Some were of the opinion that Richard's arrest record alone was not nearly enough to warrant so much money to one investigative unit. The fact that his team siphoned so much money every year was something Richard was not only unafraid to admit but (depending on how irritating they were) brag about to some people.

Logan let his backpack fall into his chair and he noticed that the machine beside his phone was blinking with a red light. He pressed the playback button and a digitized female voice told him;

"You have thirty-five new messages."

"Oh fun…" His index finger teetered over the 'delete' button. Of course, there was the highly off chance that one or maybe even two of them might be important. And then there's the possibility that Richard may just walk in one day and make a funny by deleting everyone's messages.

He's done it before.

His eyes fell on a few folders left by Danielle. On the top folder was a sticky note adorned with her handwriting; Merry Christmas Richard, yes I'm starting my shopping this early because…..well this is what you get.

He flipped open the folder and smirked. "Well if that isn't a whopper puzzle piece."

AFGHANISTAN…………………

The sun rained down a plethora of heat upon the desert, hardly a single ounce of life was able to crawl about on the sand. Yet there slowly trotted a lone man. Malcolm Bell, possibly the lone survivor of Daedalus Air Force, braved the sun parched open plain in search of help. He had turned his ripped lab coat into a shroud and wore it over his head and neck. The bright white breathable fabric did quite well to reflect much of the sun's rays. However there was still the dry heat and it was quickly eroding his already diminished strength. He carried no water with him, as everything he left behind was completely destroyed. Over and over in his head he prayed the Hail Mary for some hope of survival.

'…jeeze, I would say a hundred more…consider them said……..some water would be nice.' It was his last coherent thought. Bell was unable to form two words together by now. His mouth had long become a desert itself.

Just beyond the horizon, his eyes spotted an encampment. Because of the distance it was impossible to tell whether or not it was an American installation. It was common knowledge that if it turned out to be the other side then he may just end up on the news as the star of a ransom video. Whoever they were, they spotted him as he approached and dispatched three jeeps to intercept him.

----------

"Doctor….?" A voice, a familiar voice rang through Bell's fogged mind. He wanted to open his eyes but the strain of trying to do so was enormous. "Are sure he's conscious….?" There was the voice again, except now it was speaking to someone else. Bell suspected that the voice was given a silent reply for he heard his title being spoken once again. "Doctor…." From some unknown source, Bell finally drew the strength necessary to open his eyes. After managing to crack them open even a little bit, the blurred form of General Hammond came into view. The more Bell opened his eyes the clearer the General became.

"Doctor."

"General…." Bell groaned and tried to sit up. The nurse beside him forced him back down.

"Take it easy son; you're lucky to be lying here." Bell looked down at his arm and saw an IV pushing fluids into his body. He trained his eyes back up to Hammond.

"You're….in command here?"

"No I flew in when the report about you reached Washington." Bell nodded. "What happened?" Bell's memory of the very recent events was clouded at the moment, mostly due to the morphine.

"The base, General?"

Hammond shook his head. "It's gone." Bell's confirmed suspicions caused his stomach to churn. Hammond's face as well as his voice took on a more serious tone. "Doctor, I need to know how an entire base was leveled and how three thousand good men were swept aside."

"Chang…" groaned Bell.

"Cha…..Professor Chang…"

"He let her out," breathed Bell. Still Hammond was not satisfied with the incredibly vague answers he was getting.

"Who is 'her'?" Bell's breathing quickened. A memory in the form of a sudden flashback suddenly played before his eyes. He watched Koma from the safety of his cover. Fire and smoldering wreckage surrounded her. With the fire, the only present source of light, accenting her darkened features, she turned her glowing gaze in his direction. It was like looking into the eyes of the devil.

"Koma…." Hammond pursed his lips together. "Komand'r, I was right about her General. Her people encased her in the pod and sent it adrift into space."

"Hoping that it would never be recovered," Hammond deduced. Bell nodded.

"They succeed in ridding themselves of her, except now she's landed on our humble planet."

"Hang on Doctor; you're saying that this one girl destroyed the base?"

"General until you see her in action you have no idea the powers this monster possesses. She could easily raise D.C. to the ground." Bell stopped talking for a moment. He felt a rising sensation in his throat and feared that if he continued he might vomit. The unsettling sensation passed in due time and he continued. "We need to find her and incarcerate her as quickly as possible, there's no telling what damage she could cause."

"If she's as powerful as you say she is then I'm not sure how willing the President is going to be to risk another division against her."

Bell now sat up slightly on his side. "The pod contained a special substance, which forced her body into deep hibernation. I believe….that if we could recover what is left of her capsule at the base, and I could study it, I might be able to design a means of incapacitating her."

"We received notice that a British destroyer was somehow boarded and attacked from the inside, so far as the Intel can suggest there were no survivors. The President has been spending most of his time on the phone with the Prime Minister."

"She's moving faster than I thought," said Bell. "We can't just attack her on random fronts; a carefully measured strategy will be an absolute must."

"And in the meantime?" asked the General.

"In the meantime, I suggest you find someone who can find and follow her; someone good."

D.C………………..

Richard Grayson sat alone in his living room. Kory was already gone to the school and would be staying there until they managed to close their investigation. Richard believed wholeheartedly that he would be able to get along just fine without Kory for a couple of days, a few weeks at the most. However it was becoming more and more clear, possibly not to Richard himself, that he had grown so used to Kory's presence that even a single day was causing him to become erratic.

He sat on his black leather chair with his eyes only dimly aware of what the TV was spitting out. The rest of the house, save for the kitchen, was shrouded in darkness. His mind was a cloud from the medicine coursing through his veins and it did nothing but help him focus even more so on his troubled thoughts. It was time like these that images and memories of that one fateful night cropped up in his mind. And though his drugged up senses only amplified the experience, he would not stop. His case, Kory, the Geishas, Moira, all of it slowly sank into oblivion. Voices rang in his ears, voices long gone or still present.

"Richard!"

His eyes were now off the TV and now looked only at the backs of his eyelids.

"SHOTS FIRED!! SHOTS FIRED! Hostages are down, agent is down! The order to strike has been confirmed!"

His hand gripped his cane as though he were trying to choke the life out of a snake. Sweat mingled with tears and his breathing so quick it was a wonder he was not hyperventilating.

"Agent Grayson, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you…that your wife and son were not among the survivors."

"Richard, I wish things were different……..I'm so sorry…" Rachael's voice was muffled but he could easily remember what she told him while he lay in his hospital bed. The rest of the night, as well as everything else around him, became a meaningless blur. He could not recall the last time he felt this way; the last time he had allowed his addictions to take him dangerously out of consciousness.

-----

Morning dawned on Richard just as though he had closed his eyes, reopened them, and suddenly it was daylight. There was also a constant rapping on his front door. The doorbell still hadn't been installed but he was thankful for that. Richard found he was lying on his back on the floor in the small space between the couch and short coffee table before it. The table had a glass top so he was able to make out a slightly distorted clock through it. It was long past ten. Still the knocking continued, as though trying to say, "I know you're in there!"

Richard moved his throbbing head about until he spotted his cane lying forgotten a few feet away from him. Feeling like he would vomit with each movement, Richard crawled over to his lost crutch and used to slowly hoist himself back up. As time passed the knocks did not let up in the slightest, in fact, they were constantly one might mistake them for a normal operation. Richard walked almost blindly through his home, navigating it mostly from memory. He at long last reached his front door, pulled it open and saw;

"Victor?" Richard asked through fatigued eyes. None other than Victor Stone, his partner, stood on Richard's porch. Nothing about him looked out of the ordinary. There was not a sign of reconstruction anywhere. Richard blinked his eyes several times before clearing his throat.

"Why Victor….what brown skin you have." Victor rolled his eyes.

"Can I come in?" Richard stepped aside, allowing his partner passage. Victor waited for Richard to close the door again, owning much to a newfound feeling of discretion. He then pulled his sleeve back and showed Richard what looked like an Omega watch.

"Wow, nicest looking dollar sign I've ever seen."

"The watch projects an image over my new self," said Victor. He tapped the face of the watch and before Richard's eyes, the before visage of Victor Stone rippled away to reveal him as he was now. From head to toe his body was a shiny metallic surface, with only sections on each arm and half of his face remaining organic. Richard was truly at a loss for words as he stared ahead of him. "Uhh dude," whispered Victor. Richard looked up at his friend's face. "Could ya not stare?"

"Sorry," said Richard. He took his cane back in hand and walked past him. Victor put his holo-image back on and followed Richard into the kitchen. "So, do you have the strength of ten men..........or a million?"

"It's actually more of a question of weight to mass ratios," said Victor. Richard playfully rolled his eyes.

"Well that's not nearly as exciting." Victor moved his shoulders up and down apologetically. Richard then gestured to the watch Victor was wearing. The newly restored FBI agent nodded.

"Oh yeah, its something nifty your friend Wayne had R&D working on. It only responds to my energy signature."

"That just has a nice ring to it." Richard spoke over his shoulder. The team leader stopped by the counter and reached for a large bottle of pain reliever. Victor noted several intricate patterns imprinted on one side of Richard's face.

"You fell asleep on the floor again didn't you?"

"I did my best not to, you can put must of the blame on the special sauce."

"Yeah yeah, scotch it always great."

"Scotch is sooo last weekend, these days Disaronno is where it's at." Richard stole a few quick glances back at Victor as his guest leaned against the counter. "So…..how you hold'n up?"

Victor shrugged. "Hard to say, its not like they've got some head case to compare me to……first of my kind."

"Don't feel bad, they still haven't found the psycho equivalent to me yet."

"If there is one," snickered Victor.

"Great, your sense of humor remains intact and operational. I'll be spending the rest of my summer thinking up all kinds of robot jokes." Victor merely folded his arms and sighed, as though saying 'same old…same old'. "What's the situation?" He shuffled into a small bathroom just south of the kitchen.

Victor cleared his throat. "Well, Emily Regan's funeral is being held today. If I were you I might steer clear of that, don't think the father is any cooler from the last time you and he spoke. Kory's starting her classes today and her Geisha initiation. From what Logan's said, both she and Rachael are just fine….for now."

"Don't'cha just hhhhate that other shoe?" called Richard from the bathroom. The sounds of a brush quickly moving over teeth traveled out of the bathroom, followed quickly by rushing water. He soon stepped out, drying his face with a towel.

"Dani also needs to see us."

Richard shrugged. "She lonely?"

"She's got something for us. Her voice sounded a little shaky so I'm bet'n it's something big."

"Shannon?"

"Waiting in the car."

Richard nodded seriously. "Great, you want breakfast?" Victor felt the quickly rising urge to field test his newly acquired strength. Richard rolled his eyes. Some people just couldn't take jokes in the morning.

Richard could have sworn that the seasoned forensics expert merely wanted to show off her office's new add-on rather than simply tell them over the phone. She gathered them around a large blank white table and lay a card bearing a copy of the number on Kory's Geisha funded credit card. Immediately, a computerized circle grew around it and a display quickly typed itself out beneath the table's clear surface.

"Ohhh cooool," ogled Shannon. Danielle smiled primly at how easily her new 'toy' impressed people. Richard however was already reading through information at his fingertips.

"The account on the card was difficult to trace," began Danielle. "However.." She tapped a few icons on the table and shifted the view to a map of European cities. "Using one of the worms I have circulating through the web, I was able to link several banks spread over the globe; the most prominent of which are in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands."

"Big bankroll, even for someone like Moira," said Shannon. The former secret service agent leaned over the table. "So…Moira bankrolls the Geishas, but who bankrolls her?" Danielle continued;

"Each account has a firewall around it with a strength I've never seen before," she whispered somberly.

"Can you break it?" asked Richard. She nodded offhandedly.

"Maybe, if I had a few years of completely free time. Each account get's rerouted through several shell companies, which change every three hours, and are then poured through a number of dummy corporations usually out of Indonesia or the Middle East. But that's not even the most disturbing part of all this." Danielle then bent down to retrieve something from a shelf beneath the table. When she righted herself she was carrying a small Petri dish filled a modest amount of a blue liquid. As soon as she touched the container down upon the table a similar circle appeared around it as well as the resulting data.

Victor gestured to the strange liquid. "What's that?"

"I found it……in what remained of a certain mall donut shop." All eyes wandered up to Danielle. My own team was sent in to collect surviving evidence from the bombing and I found a small cache of this stuff under one of the floor tiles." Her fingers navigated the interactive tabletop like a practiced violinist. "Very recently, a new compound of unknown origin has begun circulating the black market. With no official name, it's been known by buyers and sellers as Substance-86."

"Never heard of it," said Richard with a small shake of the head.

"Neither did I until last night. Look here…" She moved the card off the table to make room for a larger chart of the compound. "No taste…no smell. The initial tests revealed that the compound contains an extremely addictive psycho-stimulant, and if taken in large enough doses can even render the victim completely suggestible. The more major terror cells swear by it and its becoming increasingly popular among cults and prison camps. So…gentlemen and lady, what we have here is-"

"Bottle-O-Brainwash," finished Victor grimly. Danielle lightly jabbed an index finger at him as though saying, "exactly".

"Then that donut shop was a drop & pickup point," suggested Richard. "The suicide bombing wasn't all suicide……it was a hit. Which means Moira's involved in something much bigger than just Vegas."

"So she dopes up Emily Regan on this stuff," began Shannon in a low voice. "And has her destroy it by detonating a bomb."

"Explains the reason behind the bomb…..but not the reason behind the suicide," said Richard. The three of them glanced at one another and then returned their waiting stares to Richard. "Think about it; if Moira wanted the shop destroyed she could have just sent Emily in under the guise of a normal pickup and set a bomb on a timed trigger. Instead, she made Emily kill herself in the process." At this point Richard was, for the most part, talking to himself. "……Two birds with one stone…" His last few words left him too quietly for the others to hear.

"For all we know all of the Geisha's could be on this stuff," said Victor as he picked up the Petri dish. "And if Kory's not careful, she just might find some slipped in her next drink."

"We have to warn her," said Shannon. Richard nodded to her in reply.

"Tell Rachael to tell her, and text…don't call. The less everyone around there knows what's going on the better." Shannon nodded and began walked swiftly out of the basement, her cell phone already in hand.

"Richard," called Danielle. He turned just in time to see her handing him a few papers. "Logan snapped some pictures while keeping an eye on Kory, he sent them just now."

"Great, he's watching her day and night."

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on our girl," Victor returned. Richard thumbed through the pictures until his eyes fell on a certain snap shot. It was of Kory and her new companions outside on their patio, except they were not alone. Sitting beside Kory was a young man and…..his arm was covertly on the back of her chair. His eyes narrowed as they concentrated on the hand behind Kory's back. Unbeknownst to Richard, Victor had stolen a peek of Richard's new interest. Slowly, ever so slowly, Richard turned his head at the staring Victor. It took a moment for Victor to realize Richard was looking at him. When he did, he chuckled nervously and began backing away.

"Yikes…..awkward." He retreated to the background in Danielle's company. Richard's ears just barely detected them speaking and Victor's inquiry as to who the young man in the picture was. Danielle's quiet reply managed to retain its desired anonymity, though it was hardly necessary. For Richard already knew who he was. While Victor took his leave Danielle returned to the table to shut it down as well as make some notes. She stole a few glances at Richard, noticing that he was practically burning a hole through the photo with his eyes.

"You know that guy don't you?"

"What gives you that idea?" asked Richard without looking away. She shrugged and went back to jotting her notes in her own coded language.

"I don't often see you stare at a picture like that." Richard said nothing. "Plus your nose does that flaring thing when you're jealous." At this Richard finally tore his gaze away from Xavier and instead placed it on Danielle.

"S'cuse me?"

Danielle straightened up and scrunched up her face inquisitively. "I've always thought of our association to be a bit of a quasi love/hate relationship." Richard arched a brow. "You know……days where I like you, tolerate you, dislike you, flat out hate you, etcetera etcetera…."

"Is there a point under all that makeup?" asked an impatient Richard.

"My point is no matter which one of those days it is I can read you just as well as you think you can read everyone else." Richard's tired eyes drifted back down to the vision of Kory upon the table. Danielle's eyes followed his. "Are you sure this plan isn't dangerous for the both of you."

"You worry too much," muttered Richard.

"I don't think so," insisted Danielle. "Because I've seen what it looks like when you hit rock bottom."

HOWARD UNIVERSITY………………….

Kory finally finished assigning her clothes and other belongings to certain areas on her side of the room. As it turned out, Martha was remarkably conservative as far as taking up space was concerned. From a secret area in her bag she drew a small picture of her and Richard. It was taken just after they temporarily moved out of Richard's ruined home. She wished she could display it upon her nightstand but such a thing would utterly destroy her cover. She felt herself becoming a little confused as time went on. Xavier was visiting her a lot more and she tried to keep her relationship with him as much on strictly friendly terms. And even those thoughts were slightly diminished in their stress factor by the knowledge that her first trials were to begin tonight. The fact that they were not taking place in broad daylight only mired any hope of respite.

Martha stepped inside to find her new roommate closing her suitcase. "Knock knock," she announced herself by lightly tapping on the doorframe. "So, unpacked?"

"Yes indeed, about time too," replied Kory through a sigh. "You may find this to be an oddity, but I find that I cannot wait to start my courses." Martha nodded with a playfully confused smirk.

"Uhhh yeah, that does sound kinda weird. But! If you're that excited about it, then I'm happy for you." Kory smiled broadly.

"Oh I am, truly." Martha, smiling as always, looked about until she saw Kory's bag sitting upon the Tamaranian's bed. She saw that a book was missing from it and soon found the missing text on a nearby table. She held out the book to Kory.

"Well, time to get geared up then. Your, or 'our', first class starts in half an hour."

"Which class is that?" inquired Kory.

"General pscyh," said Martha. "New professor too, uhhh…." She looked through her and Kory's schedules until she found their class. "Rachael Roth, hmm…..I feel like I've heard that name from somewhere." Kory's insides did a horrible lurch. Martha then shrugged off the thought as nothing more than a case of déjà-vu. "Eh, maybe I haven't. Anyway we better get going and! Don't forget about tonight," said Martha while moving her eyebrows up and down. Kory sighed nervously.

"Believe me……I have not." Martha groaned pitifully and hugged Kory over her shoulders from behind.

"Ohhhh, don't you worry about a thing. Nothing painful or humiliating happens and I can promise you that no one has ever died or anything." While looking straight ahead, Kory reached up and held one of Martha's hands.

"That is….most comforting." Martha giggled and gave Kory a little squeeze.

"What I'm here for, come on!" She jumped up from Kory's side and fetched her own bag. "And who knows, you might even run into Xavier again." Martha sent Kory a quick wink, to which Kory could only reply with a quiet chuckle. She stuffed the single book into her bag and, first getting to her feet, slung the heavy book bag over her shoulder. Rachael explained to her the night prior that she would not go any easier on Kory in her class, for cover's sake as well as the standard of learning. Kory told her that she understood perfectly and that she would apply her best effort to her studies. Her undercover work had officially started days ago, and yet, from somewhere in the back of her mind, Kory felt a whisper telling her that perhaps she did not wish for this to simply be a temporary placement. The red head could not tell from where or whence this thought came, but every time it came to her it grew more and more indelible.

"Kory?!" Martha's voice broke Kory free of her revere. She shook her head and responded.

"I am here Martha, I…..I simply forgot something." It was a lie as well as a smidgen of honesty. In cases such as this, either one would do.

LAS VEGAS…………………..

Moira walked alongside two bodyguards through a hallway deep within bowels of her thriving casino. The renowned illusionist was most disgruntled at the moment, having been taken away from a rather important meeting. It was a common practice for casino operators to not have cameras installed in the lower levels of the building. The reasons behind this practice were more or less unscrupulous enough to speak for themselves.

"Next time something like this comes up it can at least until after I'm done."

She entered through a set of double doors and in the middle of one of the main boiler rooms a young man sat tied up and gagged and surrounded by burly security personnel. One of the guards was currently stretching his arms about and the player's face was covered in bruises and blood. Moira strode up to him and tanked his tie off.

"You should take greater care of anything from Armani, and blood stains so easily." He only groaned in reply. "Despite first impressions of me I actually have quite a high tolerance for defiance. I think it's actually quite a healthy thing. But if there is one thing I absolutely cannot abide in my casino……" She walked around behind him and bent down to other untouched ear. "….Its a counter.." She straightened back up. "You might be asking yourself why I would get so upset about something like that. After all counting cards isn't illegal, either by law or the Nevada Gaming Commission. So why does it make me so angry?" She took a cattle prod from one of the guards. "Because the customer is not supposed to win." Without a second's hesitation she jabbed him with the prod and he tensed up with muffled cries. After several seconds she drew away from, not wanting to get too sweaty. On her way out she handed the cattle prod back to its original owner.

"Don't stop until he does." Moira was then out of the room as fast as she could be, but this was only due to how much she wished to get back to her meeting. Moira feared almost no one in this world, but there was at least one and she dared not cross him on even the slightest thing. It was a tiresome journey to make; from the basement all the way back up to her penthouse upon the top floor. She tapped her foot impatiently against the floor of the elevator, wishing it could suddenly ascend twice as fast. When she finally did arrive on her floor, she felt it only too soon. She let herself back into her main living quarters and proceeded to another room guarded by a biometric hand and eye scanner. Inside was a darkened office with only one furnishing in it. It was a half circle table lined with nearly a dozen computer monitors. Moira sat down before them and light tapped the keyboard before her. A blurred and darkened silhouette appeared on each screen.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption." She resituated herself for better comfort. "Shall we continue?"

"Buyers if you please," said one of the screens. The one on the other end could have been either male or female, but a voice synthesizer distorted their voice to that of a deep drawl.

"Yes of course, let's see…..ah yes. We have received payment from the Russians as well as the North Koreans. It will only be a few shipments before they're ready to permanently play ball. I've also included an extra incentive with each shipment."

"Is such a thing cost effective?" asked another screen.

"It hardly matters," replied Moira. "They will not be around long enough afterward to prove any trouble to us; although the timing must be absolutely precise. They will not stay friendly for long. France, your status?"

The so named screen responded. "The new president is gallingly difficult to manipulate." The distorted French accent filled the small room in which Moira sat. "However, some more…disloyal associates have pledged their assistance."

"And when they realize they have been deceived?" asked another. "How will we maintain our level of control when the time comes?"

Moira smirked. "Substance-86 is not without its drawbacks my friends, but one can hardly disregard its long term effectiveness. Let us not forget why we are working so hard for this plan."

"And the motion to bring China into the fold?" proposed a screen in the upper right. "The asset has been successfully planted and awaits further instructions, shall we proceed?"

"Aye," said Moira.

"Aye."

"Aye," said another. One by one they voted in favor of the new proposition. Once all of the votes were given, and the motion passed, Moira nodded her head.

"Wonderful," said Moira shortly. "Now unfortunately my short disturbance has caused this meeting to run for too long a time. I suggest we adjourn for now." Without waiting for their replies, Moira logged off and shut down all twelve monitors.

REJOINING KORY…………….

Rachael ended her class a little early for their first day. Unlike many of the other professors, Rachael new no mercy as far as "first day work" was concerned. Amidst a chorus of moans and groans the criminal psychologist unleashed a gestalt of reading and review questions. Kory looked about at her fellow classmates with inquisitive marvel. It was a great question to her as to why someone who endeavors to learn something would be so adverse toward strengthening that knowledge.

As Kory left the class, being moved along by the strong current of rushing students, she spotted Rachael trying to get her attention. The dark haired agent stood behind the cover a cracked door and kept motioning for Kory to join her. Looking left and right to ensure that no one saw her, Kory veered off course and entered the small office.

"Friend Rachael?"

"Kory."

"Congratulations on your first lesson," said Kory. "And you may be certain that I absolutely do not oppose your issuing of the homework."

"Thanks Kory, really. But I need to talk to you about something pretty big." Kory nodded and listened. "Shannon just sent me a message. Danielle has identified a strong chemical that Moira and maybe even Marika have been using to control the Geishas." Kory's mouth parted. "You start your induction rites tonight, don't you?"

"Yes…."

"Okay, whatever you do…whatever you do…..do not drink anything that they give you. This is Party-Survival 101, it doesn't matter it is soda, wine, or even water." Kory shook her head.

"Can-Can I not simply detect a foreign substance in my beverage by-"

"It doesn't have any taste or odor, Kory." Said Rachael grimly. The red head let herself rest against the opposite wall. She now felt weak at the knees.

"Thank you Rachael, I was curious as to how I could possibly be more scared." Rachael let her shoulders sag, feeling a slight amount of guilt at Kory's apprehension. She even saw a single tear of anxiety leak out of one of her eyes. Rachael sighed and drew a tissue from a nearby box.

"Come on, I'm sorry for having to tell you this. But if I hadn't…….I wouldn't be able to live with myself." Kory silently took the tissue and dried her eyes. "Just remember what I told you and you'll be fine." Kory wanted to believe what her friend was saying, but it beyond difficult. And for the second time she felt as though a second voice was whispering to her to actually ignore Rachael's words, and for the second time Kory was able to brush the voice aside. It frightened her though, thought notion that at some point she might not be able to. In any case, Kory forced a smile to appear on her face.

"I fear that I may only sound melodramatic," she began quietly. "But if something should happen to me…….I wish for Richard to know…" Her already failing voice faltered. Rachael felt she could use a rest and took her shoulders.

"Don't worry, he does."

Richard sat by himself on a park bench overlooking the vast ocean waters. The remains and wrappers from a meatball sub were crumpled off to the side. The air was fairly warm and the breeze was infrequent. As per a phone call which he placed earlier, someone was quickly drawing closer to him. Soon the visitor was seated beside Richard and unwrapping his own lunch. Richard looked to his left at none other than Xavier Redding.

"Red."

"Dick," replied Xavier.

"So," began Richard in his characteristically unsavory manner. "The FBI and the CIA sharing lunch together, it's cute." Xavier nodded with a mouthful of an Italian cold cut. "That explanation I mentioned over the phone, I think I'd like to have it now." Xavier swallowed his food.

"We may ultimately bat for the same team Dick but intelligence gathering is a competitive business, you know that."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Right and we both get super awesome gold stars next to our names for each time we thumb our noses at one another. Come on, what's the agency's interest in Moira and Geishas?"

"What's yours?" asked Xavier.

"I'm trying to solve a murder, and I'm trying to keep more of them from happening." Xavier looked away and took another big bite of his sub. "Red, you and I go back. What, semper fi doesn't mean anything anymore?"

"Dick, things may be easier at the bureau. But when you step through the door at Langley things get complicated. Where they really get muddled is the line between cooperation and treason."

Richard grew frustrated. "Do I look like I'm trying to bust any O.P. you have going open?!" He calmed himself and turned in place slightly so that he was now fully facing Xavier. "One of my people is undercover within Moira's operation; please tell me something I don't know." Xavier, now righteously torn, hesitated for a long moment. Richard was positive that his old associate was heavily pondering his options. Finally, Xavier put his sub down.

"The war on terror is no less critical now then it was on 9/11, and recently we as well as MI6 have become aware of an entity circulating through all of the usual circles of big bad guys. So far the biggest lead we have is a name: Deathstroke."

"A person?" asked Richard.

Xavier shrugged. "The official word is that the guy doesn't exist, and we're more inclined to believe that." Richard furrowed his brow in bewilderment. "Based on what we know we believe that Deathstroke isn't necessarily a single person but a cabal of terror cells, each stationed in about a dozen of the world's top countries. So far, all evidence points to Moira being the American cell."

"And the Geishas?" posed Richard.

"Most likely they're just a pet project of Moira's," replied Xavier. "I would be willing to bet none of them know anything about what Moira's truly involved in. I assume Danielle found the substance-86?" Richard nodded. "She's a sharp tack that one. The Geishas are most likely used a control group for Moira's experiments with the drug."

"But none of this explains why Moira killed Emily Regan," insisted Richard. "All that stuff about cells and secret factions…that's your department. I have another puzzle to solve." Xavier shrugged and stood up.

"Well then maybe you're talking to the wrong person. I've gotta go Dick, whoever it is you have one the inside…tell them to watch their back."

"Maybe you can tell her the next time you see her," said Richard. Xavier regarded him with a confused frown. "Kory likes to make friends, it's unavoidable. But I'd appreciate it if you two stayed that way." For a few seconds, Xavier was stunned into silence. He had heard the word that Richard had found someone who was willing to put up with his unique personality; but he had no idea it was her. Richard's coarse demeanor softened. "Don't take this from me……I've earned it." It was safe to say that Xavier wasn't about to speak much to that. He felt a familiar twinge in the pit of his stomach and silently turned away. Richard remained sitting, watching his old friends walk farther and farther away. He lightly beat his forehead against the top of his cane.

"You." It was generic calling, one often associated with rudeness. His head perked up and he looked about until he saw who it was that had spoken to him. It was a young woman dressed in mostly black and purple attire with the most striking feature being her long shiny black hair.

"Same to you," croaked Richard. "Need something?"

"Indeed, I am looking for my sister. I was told she would be in this area." Richard shrugged and got to his feet.

"Sorry…I don't do cats in trees, missing persons, or 'who stole the money for the big bake sale'." She cocked her head to one side. "Find someone else; the police could probably make themselves useful." He turned to walk away but Koma leapt over him and blocked his path. Richard nearly tripped over his cane as he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth slumped ajar as he stared at Koma. She hovered off the ground and allowed a tiny hint of light to shine in her eyes. He now regarded the nubile lady before him with a newfound sense of propriety. Richard gulped; there were not many other people on Earth who could do what she just did. He wondered why before now he hadn't noticed the resemblance, if only in power and ability.

"Sister huh?"

Night quickly fell over the grassy nulls and crowded buildings near Howard University. Kory had not been able to pay attention in any of her latter classes that afternoon. Her meeting with Rachael was too overwhelming to simply relegate to a back thought. And certainly not Martha's assurances would sooth the poor Tamaranian. She feared being discovered of course, but more than that she feared losing her mind and will to a demigod.

'I will simply not accept any beverages that they offer me', she told herself. If Rachael was right, then all she had to do was adhere to that cardinal rule and nothing would happen to her. From this did she draw a minute amount of extra strength. In any case, the time was quickly upon her. Marika instructed Kory to dress simply, as ceremonial attire was not yet necessary. Martha of course offered her help in prepping Kory one last time before it began.

"Remember, this isn't about impressing anyone, it about you carrying out some minor tasks."

"Minor you say," said Kory quietly. Martha stopped what she was doing and noticed Kory fidgeting with her fingers. "You're still afraid aren't you?" Kory looked at her.

"Were you not?"

"Of course I was. I remember the night I was beginning the rites, I was so nervous that I actually thought about using the sheets to make a rope that I could sneak out of the window with." Both girls derived a hardy laugh form the anecdote. "Seriously though, you have nothing to be afraid of. And, might I add, I never had someone telling me this stuff. So you're off to a great start." Both girls slipped into hesitant silence. Kory was excited and scared to death while Martha only wished to help but feared exacerbating things. Finally Martha held out her hand.

"Come on, they're waiting."

Just as Martha said, Marika and the other veteran Geishas were all gathered in the main living room of their quaint little home. They all stood in a very uniform crescent shape. The lights were dimmed just enough to cast a mysterious fog over the entire room. Martha escorted Kory until she received a nod from Marika, then she took her place among the others. Kory stood before them as though they were deciding her ultimate fate. Marika then smiled proudly and held up a small but ornate chalice. Like synchronized swimmers, the others followed suit and raised similar glasses.

"Here's to the beginning of a great era for you Kory," toasted Marika. From a hidden area behind her back she drew another unclaimed chalice and held out toward Kory. Kory's supernaturally green eyes locked onto the cup and regarded it with the same welcome as a deadly viper. Marika was of course quick to notice Kory's hesitation. "Something wrong?" There was something in Marika's tone which further frightened Kory; as though she was worried Kory wouldn't take it. All eyes, including Martha's, were drilling into the red head. The first of many surreptitious beads of sweat made itself known on the back of her neck. Before she would allow them to grow even more suspicious, Kory smiled weakly.

"Forgive me, I do wish to join you but if it would not be to offending I would like to serve myself." Marika remained silent, as did the other Geishas. Kory immediately regretted her bravado. Then, surprisingly, Marika chuckled and stowed away the second cup.

"Certainly you may, Kory!" She procured a clean chalice and slowly strode up to her. "After all, the last thing we would want…" Her face was unnervingly calculating. "…Is for you to be uncomfortable." She held up the chalice which Kory gingerly accepted. The two stared quite intently into each other's eyes for a long moment. "Kitchen's in there," Marika suddenly said.

"Right." Kory nodded and immediately ducked out of sight into the kitchen. Marika and the others all stared at her as she quickly disappeared into the other room. One lone Geisha approached Marika from behind and when she was no more than a few inches apart from her Marika spoke in a low whisper,

"The bottles too?"

"Yes Mama-San," replied the Geisha. Marika snickered.

"Bloody marvelous…"

To be honest, I planned on bringing Koma in next chapter but I felt like now was a perfect opportunity for her and Richard to get acquainted. And if any of you are thinking Victor's taking his change too well…….there's this thing called "Denial". Until next we update….I bid you Laters!