When It All Falls Apart

by CallMeWisteria

When the conspiracy began to take shape in the late 2060s, the faces, names, companies, contractors, and entities behind it all thought they had until the turn of the century to implement their plans. As it turned out, they were a little more than twenty years off when it all fell apart. Series of one-shots zooming in on ten of the biggest players with a stake in a nuclear war – on

8. VIII – REPCONN Aerospace

I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself and falls on the other.

For one Mister Leonard Carson Steeple, nothing in his life had ever been – nor would be again – more embarrassing and infuriating than being forced out of his own company.

The mid-March air swung a little bit of warmth into the otherwise heavily air conditioned national headquarters of the Rocket Engineering And Production Company Of Nevada. It lasted barely a minute. A scowl on his face, Steeple presented his ID badge to security at the front desk and clenched his jaw at the biting reminder from the secretary that he needed to have his office fully and finally cleared out by the end of the week. He stormed from the lobby to down the corridor leading to one of the lifts and scowled at the technicians installing new security systems and the construction teams preparing a rocketry and robotics exhibition. A few of them began to greet him, but quickly stopped upon seeing the look on his face. He swiped his ID when the lift arrived and all but slammed his thumb into the button to the third floor. He shifted his large workbag over his shoulders and his briefcase under his arms, making no secret of his vitriol. The bell rang out upon reaching the third floor, and Steeple barely responded to the way his COO and a few investors took a few steps back upon his leaving the lift and heading towards his office. He gritted his teeth at hearing his COO tell the others, just before he was out of earshot, how 'poor Leo' must think her a traitor before laughing. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, the digital date and weather report under it made every biting comment turn into a knife twisting in his back.

Monday, March the 15th, 2077.

10:11. Clear skies in Henderson, Nevada, USA. High of 96F and low of 73F before nightfall.

"Beware the Ides Of March," Leonard grumbled to himself, his footsteps harsh and heavy as he made his way to his office. "It's a cold day in hell."

Taking a look at his ID for a few seconds before scanning it to allow himself access to his office, Steeple gave the technicians and, much to his annoyance, interior designers already in it a hearty glare. Almost all of them skittered out of the room instantly, and the stragglers departed when he dropped his workbag down on his desk chair and all but slammed his briefcase down onto his desk. Flipping the clasps on his briefcase open, he swiftly took out a USB drive and logged onto his computer before plugging in the USB drive. He took an almost paranoid look around to ensure he had been left alone, but then began to run the programme from the USB drive. He found he was, temporarily, smirking to himself when its contents seamlessly downloaded to his computer terminal. The pop up window that followed lasted on screen for barely twenty seconds before he dismissed it. Virus programme downloaded. Warning: restarting or attempting to erase the data on this computer terminal will result in virus activation. Neutralising action recommended. Secure in himself that his successor would not detect the infiltration until it was already bogging the computer down, Steeple set his workbag on the floor and took a seat at his desk for what, to his ire, he knew would be one of the last times. First opening his emails, he scrolled back to the furthest point in his inbox, slowing upon seeing a few of the old subject lines and senders. His stomach feeling as though it were twisting into a knot, he forced himself to continue scrolling when he felt and heard his feet beginning to tap impatiently under his desk.

He paused once more upon hearing the buzzing of his mobile in his workbag and reached down to take it out and silence it. The moment it went silent, he set it down on his desk as far away from himself as possible. He let out a frustrated sigh when he looked back at his computer screen and saw the date and then the subject line on one of his emails. His fingers curled over the computer mouse. July the 7th, 2076, Second Official Offer From RobCo Industries After The First Offer From December 2075, sender piersbisley . Anger clasping onto him the same as it had when he first read the email and took a glance at the attachments, Steeple only let out a half satisfied grunt at what he had finished his reply with at the time; I'm sending back the package. I'm sure you have a fairly solid idea of where I think you should put it. Yours Truly, Leonard Steeple. Clicking off of the email before it could irritate him more, Steeple continued scrolling further and further back in his emails. Every so often, finding the rare, sentimental correspondence from (almost exclusively) his wife and children, Steeple sent either the entire email or its attachments to the printer. Slowly but surely, the tray of pages warm from fresh printing began to fill and, doing his best to avoid that which could aggravate him, he found himself satisfied enough to stop scrolling. Not trusting the time on his computer terminal to be wholly accurate, he looked over at the clock on the wall, leaning back into his office chair and closing his eyes for a moment.

Sleep had been reticent far too often of late, and, whatever it was in his mind that felt to be compelling him to turn his back on the very state he felt less and less rested from, it was becoming painful.

Closing his emails and switching to a review of the data – his data – on the computer's hard drive and in the cloud, Steeple looked up for a few seconds upon hearing the doors to his office being opened. Seeing the faces of the two men who had done so rekindled his ire, deepening when they approached him at his desk. His face setting into a nearly painful frown, and having no love nor even a smidge of trust towards the two men, Steeple impatiently waited for either man to speak. Neither of them particularly eager to be the first to say something to their former coworker and boss, the silence lingered, breaking when, frustrated half to death, Steeple stood up and set his hands down on the desk in front of him with a harsh thud. Having caught their attention, he briefly muttered something to himself before taking in even the smallest changes in the two men since he had last seen them. The taller of the two appeared to have completely updated his wardrobe, and garishly so. The shorter of the two men simply stood with a look of faux innocence that slipped whenever he and Steeple met eyes; Piers Isley's greed and mask of wilful ignorance unnerved and surpassed only by Leonard Steeple's contempt for him because of it and the fruit it had borne.

"I only just realised this will be your last week as one of us, Leo," Piers said with a warmth that made Leonard bristle. "I wish you didn't have to leave, but I hope retirement will give you the ever growing time needed for Lisa's care and, eventually, a pleasant departure from the workforce altogether for her sake. With your kids being adults now and either in college or on their own, I'm sure it has been harder without them around to help."

"Taking care of their mother as her health declines is not their responsibility and it never has been and never will be," Leonard shook his head. "It is mine, and I do so because I vowed to care for her in sickness, health, and poverty or wealth. And, knowing you agree with Mister Isley," Leonard turned to the taller of the two men. "It was not a waste of my time, and using a time when my family and I were vulnerable to snatch this company out from under me was a low blow I will not forget, Steve. You, Piers, and the rest of our executives and board members betrayed me. With the exception of Jules, of course. She seems to be the only one with a spine left around here."

"The deal had nothing to do with your wife's health issues," Piers uncomfortably said. "The offer was too good to pass up while it was still good for us. Did you really want to get into a corporate game of chicken with Robert House? Because that was the alternative, and we did what was best for us and the company at large."

"Good for you," Leonard said coldly. "Good for you and the rest of the board to line your own pockets. I think I speak for everyone in this building when I say I'm tired of your playacting. You made twenty five million dollars on this deal and haven't made a secret of it either. You as well, Mister Reynolds," He narrowed his eyes at Steve. "I heard you got a much smaller but still reasonable portion of five million dollars. After having heard what you did to Dr. Neimeyer from his wife, you should consider yourself lucky I was unable to remove anyone from the company by the time I heard about it, because you certainly would have been out the door with only what I legally owed you and not even the hope for a penny more."

"Dr. Neimeyer caused a radiation spill that will take decades to clean," Reynolds irritably replied. "I had no choice in the matter. We were to show the very best of the work and experiments we have been doing at our test facility to RobCo, and Dr. Neimeyer's carelessness resulted in an accident that caused us to lose some of what had tentatively been agreed upon between us and RobCo. Two hundred million dollars were lost because of him and his carelessness. Forcing him to retire was much kinder than outright firing him."

"According to his wife, who is still one of your best engineers, it was your ignorance of safety protocols in favour of quicker results and cost cutting by hiring undertrained personnel for manufacturing that caused the accident, not any alleged carelessness by Neimeyer," Leonard bit back. "I hope you've learnt your lesson and are deeply uncomfortable in the knowledge it was your underhandedness that got a hardworking man in his late sixties fired before he could receive his pension."

Reynolds snorted. "If you're insinuating I had something against Neimeyer, you're wrong. Seeing as he is in the US on work visas from Europe, I easily could have had him deported back to Italy if I so desired. His wife being a born US citizen wouldn't have been an issue, either, not with him having caused a disaster for the EPA."

"Get the hell out of my office, Stevie," Leonard snapped. "I'll hear no more of your twisted justification for what you did to him being 'kind,' and certainly not knowing the only reason you and Piers are here is to gloat about what you have gained in desecrating the more than two decades of my life I've put into running this company with your lack of morals."

Miffed and ensuring the former CEO saw the diamond cufflinks on his suit, Reynolds left the room in a huff. Undeterred, Piers stayed where he was, and watched Leonard sit back down at his desk and begin to scroll through his computer terminal again. Open one file, scroll through it. Pulling out another USB drive from his pocket, he shoved it into the computer. Download one file, then open and scroll through another. The beating of Piers' footsteps against the floor startling him every so often, Steeple looked up to see where the man was. First, he was appraising his mostly emptied bookshelves; all that remained were a few histories of the World Wars, the United States Space Programmes, and a book he was sure to be mocking him. Smartest Guys In The Room: The Amazing Rise And Scandalous Fall Of Enron. Half expecting the title to change to The Amazing Rise And Scandalous Fall Of REPCONN Aerospace And Leonard Steeple, his fingers began to curl over the keyboard, his frown deepening. Biting his tongue when he heard Piers walk around his desk and towards the unfinished work of his soon to be successor's interior designers, he kept going. Open, review, print, or download. One file, then another; frustration ebbed at him again when he saw the dates on the files to be steadily descending.

A thorough examination would require being left alone for at least a few hours, but, not daring to take more than a cursory glance at his computer terminal's files with someone else in the room, he kept going. 2054 to 2077. Twenty three years. The Delta IX rocket to drafting plans for the Mars Shot.

And it was all being sent to hell in favour of money and defence contracts to rake in more of it.

"I know you think we're stabbing you in the back with the RobCo deal, Leo, but there wasn't a better option," Piers said, breaking the silence. "The situation with Neimeyer was regrettable, but also the best choice we had at hand. If you had just been a little more agreeable about the RobCo –"

"I stood on my own two feet and principles, and we could have fought this if you had listened to me and Julia," Leonard snapped, turning in his desk chair to face him. "You've been REPCONN's General Manager nearly as long as she, I, or Diana have been here. You, me, and our CFO and COO respectively. We could have fought this. Julia ran the numbers, but you chose your own damned greed over keeping REPCONN independent from any companies dealing with defence contracts. We went over this with Poseidon, and you did the right thing then. Why the hell didn't you now?"

"Firstly, because Poseidon tried to buy us out twenty years ago and we would have all lost our jobs and the company would have been renamed," Piers said, showing no hint of emotion in his face. "Secondly, with this deal, we got to keep our company name and it largely autonomous but with access to a hell of a lot of extra money to put into all of our projects before we have to factor in whatever the government might want us to do. We're not dissolved, Leo, we're just under the umbrella of RobCo which –"

"Stop talking out of your ass, Piers, this was about money for you and nothing more. I'm sure Robert House was so very thrilled to find someone like you to walk all over and write that twenty five million dollar check to," Leonard scowled at him before letting out a tired sigh. "Speaking of that son of a bitch, you know as well as I do that Jules risked her position as CFO in going up against him with me but still did so, and that's accounting for the fact she and House have been, personally, friends for ages. I'm sure he stiffed her out of those big checks you and the rest of them got as a sting, and to, of course, remind her their friendship doesn't extend to business where the Lord knows he's a cutthroat. You are spineless."

Piers laughed. "She's had the good sense not to talk about any of it or what she got paid because she doesn't like to show her hand unless she's being forced to with a gun to the head, not because she's afraid of House professionally."

"She's also, unlike the rest of you, not a goddamn vulture," Leonard said, a bit of satisfaction running through him when Piers looked taken aback. "The rest of you started swarming around the money and prestige ahead of focusing on, say, the myriad of projects we have for one of the few non-militaristic government opportunities. If we were to put the first people on Mars, we could easily –"

"Competing for the Mars Shot is a great thing we're working on, and I've heard," A slight smirk graced his face. "That ArcJet Systems have had a catastrophic accident that could damn them out of the running. But we'll still have to outrun or, at the least, outlast SpaceX, and we'll have a hell of a lot harder time doing that without the resources from RobCo. Even for that, you need to follow the money, Leo. It's a good thing you've never been CFO. You're great at a lot of things, but you don't value money even half as much as you should."

Leonard raised an eyebrow. "The difference between you and I is that I am not driven by greed but genuine interest in human progress. I don't give a flying fuck that my net worth is over five billion dollars. What I do care about is –"

"I'm not saying the way you approach money is on the whole bad, Leo, I'm just saying, in the case of business isolated from all other factors, it's something you should want more for," Piers ran his hands over the back of the reupholstered couch towards the back of the office. "If it's any conciliation, I will say I think you have much better taste than your…impending successor. Changing this from sleek, black leather to yellow velvet is nearly a criminal offence in my book. Clearly, despite being the child of at least seven generations of millionaires, Rook has questionable taste."

"I'm disgusted by the fact he's turning my perfectly calm, focused, minimalistic office into something brightly coloured because Carl Hamilton Rook thought I was handing him a 'clinical hell,'" Leonard grumbled, leaning back in his desk chair. "The only thing I think looks nice are the paintings. Inherited, I'm sure, but their depictions of the Mojave from the days of gold and silver rushes are nice, though I would ask you to never tell him I said so."

"Carl doesn't need his ego inflated any further, consider it a parting gift from me," Piers replied, picking up one of the throw pillows on the couch. "I want to know who he paid to do these, because I can't imagine it was cheap to have detailed peacocks of all things done in watercolour on these."

"It's something of a miracle he seems to be at least keeping the white walls and birchwood floors, seeing as he's one of the investors of the Ultra Luxe," Leonard wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Vegas has its fair share of good and bad hotels and casinos, but, I swear, the only reason that place exists is because there's one hell of a market for people who want to pretend they have money in a garish –"

"Nightmare, and I hope you're going to give my mom credit for saying that first, Mister Steeple."

Leonard turned around in his desk chair, startled. Seeing the petite, pale, raven haired figure of his CFO's daughter, he managed a hint of a laugh, though not without scowling at Piers when he smiled at him.

"Far be it from me to take credit from your mother, Katie Rose," Leonard eventually said, returning to looking through the files on his computer. "Julia would make sure I couldn't even if I wanted to. What are you doing here?"

"My semester is finished and, since I'm home again, mom wanted to make sure my face and fingerprints were stored in the security system, now you're getting a new one around here. So, I take it these have never and will never be yours?" Katie Rose snickered and primly adjusted her cherry red glasses as she picked up a few fabric swatches left on several of the chairs in the room. "You could always sneak a few of them away to make sure the new CEO doesn't completely desecrate your office. I'm sure my mom would appreciate it."

"We all would," Piers told her with a chuckle. "Are we looking at the newly minted Dr. Masters?"

Katie Rose startled. "I…well, I hope so."

"She will be. Don't let her second guessing herself fool you."

Leonard sighed, glancing up again to see his CFO entering his office as well. His lips pressed into a thin line, he tried to mask his relief at Piers, finally, scurrying out of the room. With a few hushed words exchanged with her twenty six year old daughter, Katie Rose soon left the room too with a polite wave at Steeple before the doors shut behind her. Left alone with the only person who had taken his side, Leonard returned to his work in silence; it would, at least, not be an interrogation. The longer he spent sorting through the files on his computer terminal, however, the more difficult he found it to focus. We've been likeminded when it comes to the moral and financial future of this company from the start, and, somehow, we lost even though we had been able to rally the board to keep ourselves autonomous well over a decade earlier, and when we were in a much weaker position. It's wrong. It's so wrong. Looking up at the sound of his CFO's heels clicking against the floor, he smiled a bit to himself upon seeing her disgust for some of what his soon to be successor's interior designers left behind. Startling him, a moment, she swept up a few of the more egregious samples left about the room and deftly dropped them into the trash bin near the doors without a second thought, her disdain still etched into her face.

"Thank you for getting rid of those, Julia," Leonard said, standing up behind his desk to stretch his legs out. "I cannot even begin to describe how disgusted I was when I saw the first changes being made to my office."

"I doubt that's the reason you were disgusted by it," She said, eyeing him critically. "As I don't imagine your contempt for Rook comes from his taste in furnishings."

"Describing my feelings towards the man as contempt does not do them justice," Leonard said, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his desk. "I deplore him. I looked him up as soon as I learnt he would be my replacement as CEO and Vice President. He skated his way through life and business school before landing a cushy job at RobCo he's only climbed up from since because of the people he met at the CIT. Perhaps he would not get under my skin so much if it weren't for that, because, as you well know, I had to scrape together barely enough money to afford getting my MBA, which made me one of the oldest in the class."

"Something you should leave comfortably in the past," Julia said pointedly. "Seeing as you were a founding member of one of the most profitable companies in the United States only a few years later."

"A company I am now being shunted out of in disgrace, with my very much forced resignation being painted as voluntary," He said, scowling at that which the interior designers had left in the room. "My only consolation is knowing you'll be taking over some of my work after I'm officially fired, seeing as your judgement is almost always more than sound. But, on a lighter note," He forced a half smile. "Your baby girl is finally getting her doctorate?"

"She's nearly twenty seven, so not much a baby but, yes, she just submitted her doctoral thesis late last night," Julia replied, more than a little bit of pride making itself known in her face and her voice. "I have no doubt in my mind that it'll be accepted, and she'll finally have the doctorate in nuclear engineering she's spent the last five years clawing her way towards."

"Katie Rose, unsurprisingly seeing as you're her mother, Julia, is incredibly intelligent. There's a reason she pushed herself through the master's programme harder and faster than she needed to in order to be accepted into that doctoral programme, and it will pay off. She's overcome so much. I can hardly believe it was six years ago she was 5150'd for bipolar disorder and now she's about to receive her doctorate. Medication has done her wonders, and you and Colin and Jackson supporting her as a family, of course," Leonard sighed. "I suppose what I'm getting at is her vaulting ambition is the same as your own. After decades of working with you, I would recognise it anywhere. Your son is the same way. I only wish I had the forceful will you do. Perhaps if I did, I would have successfully fought off Isley and the rest of the board. Instead, here I am. Your children are doing great things, mine are forging their lives as best they can for themselves, and I'm a shadow of my former self in my own goddamn company."

"What's done is done," Julia raised an eyebrow when he unplugged a USB drive from his computer terminal. "For your sake, I hope that was plugged in only to return any information you still had to the server, because I don't imagine the DOD will be particularly kind and understanding if you take any of our corporate work with you. Certainly not for the projects they are now funding."

"The damned deal isn't even legally official, and they've already sunk their teeth in?" Leonard stared at her for a few seconds before dropping the USB drive back into his briefcase. "If I could have House's head for this, I would. I may be nearly sixty and I may no longer be lean and fit like I was when I was a young man, but my heavy stature can't prevent me from firing a gun."

She frowned. "Seeing as your objections to RobCo obtaining any interests in this company were ethical, I don't see how contemplating murder fits in line with that."

"I would never do it, much as I can bitterly talk. Hypocritical of me to think or not, I'm well aware I'm no paragon of virtue, but, mark my words," Leonard said, turning the computer terminal off and walking over to collect that which he had printed. "If there is a hereafter, then Robert Edwin House ought to be down on his knees praying for forgiveness, because his ventures with the Federal Government kill and, no doubt, will continue to kill people."

"Are you becoming a God fearing man, Leo?"

"If there is a God, I suspect we should hope he will have mercy on us all. Look at the state of the world. It has been going from bad to worse for…" He sighed as he brought the papers over to and dropped them into his briefcase as well. "The world could end at any time, if one arrogant world leader says the wrong thing to the wrong person, and far too many people seem wilfully ignorant to that fact."

"True," Julia said, a faint smirk dawning on her lips for no more than a few seconds. "This world is ending faster than people might choose to think but the difference between us and them is the fact we will float, and they will sink with the concrete."

Leonard shut his briefcase with a harsh snap, his gaze rising sharply towards her. "What changed your mind?" He said, looking disgruntled. "I've been saying for decades that all these people taking defence contracts like they're fucking candy are the reason there will be no more 'us' or 'them,' and you've always said I'm paranoid."

"You were," She said, an eyebrow raised when he did not say anything. "Leonard, I have no desire to see you dead, nor anyone else in this company. I stood by you when the rest of the board voted you out in no confidence, and I'm the reason you've been given such a generous amount of time to get yourself together and leave the company with some semblance of dignity. I came to my own conclusions from what I have heard from my husband and others in the military. You have the wealth to weather out an incident, should one occur. I'd advise you to take it."

"I very well might," He said, eyeing her closely. "Having worked with you for twenty five years, just about, I know your judgement is sound even though we have, admittedly, frequently disagreed. Knowing your husband is, now, a Full, Four Star Admiral, too…" He paused, opening his desk one last time to search it. "He was first promoted to Rear Admiral ten years ago, wasn't he?"

"He was, and what of it?"

"It was early November of 2067," Leonard said, suddenly opening his computer bag. "The seventh, wasn't it?"

Julia said nothing, looking between him and the clock, almost as though she were bored.

"Ah, yes, it was," Leonard said, finally pulling out an old calendar. "You were out from the second of November to the seventh as you and your family had been asked to attend the Senate's confirmation, and then flew direct from Washington DC to Los Angeles. You joined a meeting with the board remotely while in the airport lounge before your red eye flight to California."

"I still don't know why you keep meticulous files on every member of the board," She said with a disapproving frown. "Kept, now. That certainly won't be missed."

"Nothing happens in or is done by the leadership of this company without me knowing about it, or, at least, that was my intention and by design to keep us true to our work, not beholden to defence contracts or other companies. Piers, damn him, clearly got the best of me this time, though," Leonard said gruffly. "Remind me. Why did you have to go to Los Angeles?"

"I had a conference with other corporate executives," Julia flatly replied. "Vault-Tec hosted the event in their regional headquarters there, and I was –"

"Representing REPCONN, to Robert House of RobCo – our oh so wonderful new parent company – and Dr. Leon Von Felden of West-Tek," Leonard said the names as though they disgusted him. "As well as Frederick Sinclair of the Big MT Think Tank, and, of course, Vault-Tec and their top executives, among others from God knows how many other companies," He turned to her, quivering a little when he saw her calm and steady demeanour. "Christ, Julia!" Leonard suddenly shouted, knocking his briefcase off the desk. "What did you do?"

"Your meticulous records missed my report on that meeting?" She said, still perfectly calm and composed when she crossed her arms, watching him fumble to pull out his mobile. "I sent my report on it back to the board three days afterwards, specifically noting that Vault-Tec were interested in a robot we had developed because of its AI, the one that came from your bizarre passion project for developing robots that could do everything. It's a damn good thing your robot that delivers milk to the front door had an AI that was quite intelligent, because selling it and its AI to Vault-Tec a few years back made us all money hand over fist to put into other projects."

"You and the rest of the board made that decision, not me," Leonard irritably reminded her, scrolling furiously through his emails. "The only reason I let it go was because you worked the deal, Jules. You know money better than any person I've ever met, and I sure as hell wouldn't have asked you to become CFO as a founding member of this company if I didn't know that. But I still dislike the decision to sell that robot and its AI to Vault-Tec, no matter how much money it made us. What if Vault-Tec decide to use that AI to govern one of their Vaults? That could be a disaster if an incident were to occur!"

"Intelligent as it was, that AI was still limited," Julia tartly reminded him. "And it was a precursor to the one we just – successfully, I should note – had deployed the ISS, the one capable of scanning, ordering and conducting repairs on, and monitoring spacecraft that should ensure a disaster such as that of STS-107 will never happen again. Stop jumping at shadows."

Leonard said nothing, though his gaze darkened when he paused his scrolling through his emails and reopened one.

"Should the need arise, the Vault-Tec Corporation have offered us the opportunity to use some of their Vaults as top of the line research facilities," Leonard read out, his gaze darkening by the minute. "They extended this offer, as well, to RobCo Industries, the West-Tek Corporation, the Big MT Think Tank, Med-Tek Laboratories…with the threat posed by China and Russia, even a small collaboration with Vault-Tec could preserve decades worth of research done here at REPCONN in the event of a short, tactical nuclear strike on US soil. I proposed a few ideas for Vault experiments that we could benefit from, and…"

"Leo, for –" Julia irritably began.

"Were any of the Vaults in question even partially residential?" Leonard said with a low and dark edge stepping into his voice, setting his mobile down and staring at her. "Or were they designed specifically for scientists to do research in a safe and just about impenetrably secure environment?"

"Purely scientific."

"Don't lie to me, Julia."

"I'm not."

Leonard eyed her closely for a minute but, eventually, shook his head.

"I want no part in this damned War, never have. My company was to stay out of it, too, and Isley…" He paused, his face contorting in anger. "Isley ruined that, but don't you dare think for a second I have ever been pleased by you having attended that conference, Julia. I implored you at the time not to go, but you did anyways. Why?"

"We all have a stake in the War, Leonard, whether you like it or not," She said, stepping over to him and shutting and packing away the last few things he had left laying around. "I have made – and will continue to make – the best choices for myself and my family. We did not get to the top three percent of this country by playing fair, and if you think for a second that burying your head in the sand will keep you safe from the War, I can assure you, it will not. Now, I recommend you take your things and get out of here before you officially become a trespasser. You've dragged on your departure from the company two and a half months long enough."

Leonard snatched his bags away from her. "How much did you personally stand to gain from the RobCo deal, after it was accepted at the end of January? Isley hasn't shut the hell up about his twenty five million dollar bonus. And cut the bullshit about the top three percent. You left that, at the latest, a decade ago. You've been comfortably in the top one percent for a long time, don't deny it."

Julia said nothing, instead stepping over towards and holding the door open for him.

"I'm serious, Jules," Leonard said as he begrudgingly made his way for the door. "What did you get out of it, and did you only support me for show?"

"Would you like to take a walk with my lawyer?" She said with a hint of a threat in her voice she swiftly dropped upon hearing the bell of the lift nearby ringing out. "Be careful if you choose to take the stairs," She told him, pausing when he stopped just past her, his silent frown still asking the same question. "Ninety million."

Leonard turned on his heels, gaping at her for a few seconds.

"So. It was a show," He said bitterly, scowling at the man coming up from the lift and sauntering towards his old office. "Congratulations on ousting me from my own company, Mister Rook," He glanced back at Julia. "Damn you, Julia Colette Masters, God damn you."

Rook chuckled as the former CEO and Vice President stormed towards the lift. "Steeple has lost his mind. Good news for everyone else is he's one less thing to worry about. I'm glad to have found you here. You're needed at the board meeting in fifteen."

"A board meeting I called," Julia curtly reminded him. "I'll be there in five. I just have to get a few things from my office."

The sharp tip tap of her heels against the cold floors echoed down the corridor, lingering after she turned the corner towards the stairs. Rook stood where he had been for a minute, a bit of nervousness pecking at him. A few interns hurried out of the way of the CFO as she made her way down the stairs and towards her office; though slim and barely 5'2" without heels, her presence preceded her title; her eyes were critical and always searching for something, her gait was sharp and assured, her appearance perfectly composed. When she reached her office, she deftly scanned in with her ID, unsurprised to find her daughter already there, sat on the couch on the other side of the room from her desk and talking on her mobile. Closing the door behind herself, Julia swiftly made her way around her desk and to her computer terminal, removing a separate, secondary ID badge and inserting it into a reader on the side of the computer. Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard and entered her security key and then password, yielding access. Taking a brief glance at her emails, Julia sent her daughter a sharp look before opening a secure messenger and sending a short reply.

I've managed to get the password to Isley's computer. I'll forward it to you with the release notes on the Q-35. The first, working prototype is going to be stopping here on its way to the Department Of Defence. I'm well aware the CIA Director wants you to deliver it sooner, but this is as early as you can get it. You should be able to intercept it on the road.

"Is there anything I should know before the board meeting?" She glanced up at her daughter, who had hung up her phone call. "Or has nothing changed?"

"Since this morning, nothing has changed," Katie Rose replied with a smirk. "I got good news from dad, too. In a few months – if my doctoral thesis is accepted – I'll be moved from working on some of the engineering powering Vault 81 to being on the list for residents of Vault 31 with you and him and Jackson."

"And some people will still insist wealth and influence get you nothing," Julia looked between her and the Q-35 notes on her computer screen. If it weren't for me and Colin having put this on the Director's desk, it'd probably still be failing. Her fingers lingered over the keyboard. "I'll be free after the board meeting if you need anything, but – if the last one was any indication – Rook will drag it out longer than necessary."

"You called it to discuss a few key projects, but he'll make it all about himself and his ego?"

"No," She said, sending the notes to the printer with a faint frown. "We've had a few serious incidents at the Test Site since the Neimeyer incident, the installation of new security measures has been slow at best, and the damned exhibition is taking longer to put together and open than intended."

Katie Rose turned to her, surprised. "What's happened other than the Neimeyer incident? I thought he was fired months ago."

"It was the Test Site director's – Steve Reynolds' – fault as much as it was Neimeyer's. Unfortunately, it wasn't the only incident. Ultimately, though, it crosses my desk and impacts our stock numbers, but is not my fault or primary concern at the moment," Julia paused a moment to glance towards the notes as they filled the printer tray. "At the end of the day, I could say I'm frustrated by any number of things, but I'm more so annoyed, at the moment, about what my executive assistant did to my coffee this morning."

"What'd she do to your coffee?"

"The girl read two teaspoons of sugar as two tablespoons of sugar. I thought I was going to be sick. How can anyone make that mistake?"

"Did she at least get you a new one?"

"She did after I told her to take a sip of it when she tried arguing with me and telling me I was wrong," Julia sighed, logging out of and turning off her computer terminal. "I love you and am proud of what you've accomplished. Your father and I both are," She said, embracing her daughter before taking the notes from the printer and her laptop from its nearby charger. "But there are times I do miss you being my executive assistant."

Katie Rose nodded. "Good luck with the meeting."

"I won't need it," Her mother replied, taking out her wallet and handing her daughter seven hundred dollar bills. "You've been working hard enough the last few months, Katie. Go get something nice for yourself."

She smiled. "Thanks, mom. I'll see you later."

Her mobile buzzing, Julia swore under her breath when she found she had almost left it on her desk. She did smile, albeit briefly, upon seeing the message and sender. Colin Masters – I'll be able to fly back to Henderson in about a week with Jackson for spring break. I'll call you tonight, Jules. Love you. Texting back a quick reply, she shut her office door behind herself and locked it with her primary ID badge. Walking back towards the stairs up to the top floor, she cast a dark look towards her COO as the woman caught up to her, the scent of cigarette smoke still heavy on her. Unfazed or not noticing, REPCONN's COO and President, Diana Pierce, quickly worked to fully compose herself, short on the heels of her otherwise almost bored coworker. When they reached the top of the stairs, and soon after the board room, Pierce paused in the doorway, startled to find one of the only two others already present in full military uniform. The feeling went as soon as it came, and she primly took her seat, setting down her laptop and irritably beginning to look through her emails. The rest of the board milling in quickly, she took a look at them over the top edge of her laptop screen; almost, it seemed, in examination.

Nearly official in his position as CEO and Vice President, Carl Rook was completely calm when he took his seat, though he cast a nervous look every so often towards the uniformed man who was sat to his left. To his right was CFO Julia Masters, whose face betrayed nothing but annoyance towards those running late, her gaze flicking between her laptop, notes, and the clock. Just as annoyed by the stragglers was General Manager Piers Isley, who thoroughly scowled at Steve Reynolds as he sauntered in last, either unaware of the fact he was late by three minutes or unbothered by it. When he sat down across from the stern and tired looking woman beside Isley, IT Director Sara Wang, he showed the ever so slightest signs of discomfort when she inclined her head towards the uniformed man with them. Seeing the man's ID, Reynolds suddenly sat up perfectly straight, watching him closely as he shut the door and joined them, his annoyance at the delay more than apparent in his movements and countenance.

"Colonel Moretti," Reynolds said shortly. "I was unaware you would be joining us today."

"It was brought to my attention that work on the Quantum Plasma Modulation Matter Injection Rifle is pleasantly ahead of schedule," The Colonel replied. "Notwithstanding, I was asked to come by your CFO, seeing as I am to leave on deployment again soon and ought to be updated on the project before then."

"I also," Rook silkily put in. "Thought it necessary you be reacquainted with the board here at REPCONN in light of the…retirement of Mister Steeple."

"Which is all well and good, apart from the fact we have three serious issues to discuss," Isley said, struggling to mask his irritation. "Starting with the state of things at the Test Site. Since much of the work we're doing with the military is happening there, Reynolds, would you care to update us on things there?"

Reynolds hesitated. "Well, for a start, things have greatly improved in the rocket propulsion system we're developing for the Army. Neimeyer's firing has caused a bit of a stir, but things are getting back to normal productivity."

"And what of the Q-35 testing?"

"Version Thirty Five is officially a success. However," Reynolds cleared his throat. "With all due respect, I must request all but Missus Pierce, Mister Rook, Miss Masters, and Colonel Moretti leave until we finish discussion on the subject, as the details of it are highly classified."

Standing up in a bit of a huff, Piers Isley left first, snatching up his bags and all but storming out of the room. Much more composed, Sara Wang politely inclined her head towards the Colonel as she stood up and gathered her things. To varying degrees of willingness, the others followed. When silence fell over the room, the Colonel stood up and locked the door, pacing for a moment.

"Masters informed me you received the data used to develop the Q-35 came from, if her husband's informants are being entirely truthful, Dr. Xuan Duong before he was taken into CIA custody as a Communist spy," Colonel Moretti cast a critical gaze over them. "Duong was under your purview, Mister Reynolds, with the team working on the Q-35. Do you have the notes on the development?"

"I do," Julia said curtly, handing him them when he stepped over to her. "That should be the majority of the development history, though I marked the developments of the last two years as a starting point for a quick read of it. We've had to be exceedingly careful to prevent Steeple from learning about the project, so if that upset your timetable, I'm afraid there's nothing we could have done about it."

"REPCONN isn't the first government contractor to not produce results on the original timeline, and certainly won't be the last," Moretti said, paging through the notes as he began pacing again. "I appreciate your honesty, and I'll ensure Admiral Masters is relayed the news that the endeavour was ultimately successful."

"Knowing my husband, I suspect he already knows," Julia frowned. "That cannot possibly be the only reason you want to discuss the Q-35."

"I have to agree," Pierce said, briefly glaring at Reynolds who glared back at her. "You mentioned Dr. Duong has been arrested by the CIA?"

"Taken into custody, and that is need to know only," Moretti looked sharply at Reynolds. "As far as everyone working on the project is aware, your primary lead on it – Dr. Rebecca Nolan, if I remember correctly – granted Duong leave to attend to personal matters, and the team will continue to work with the successful prototype. That said, I have a few questions specifically for the four of you regarding the development of the prototype only you will have answers to."

Rook uncomfortably shifted. "About how we obtained the data?"

Moretti quirked an eyebrow with a humourless smirk. "Yes."

Silence. A few papers shuffled, and the anxious patter of feet on the floor interspersed the hum of electricity.

"Fine," Pierce said, leaning back in her seat a bit with a bored look on her face. "Duong brought the data to the attention of the board – bar Steeple – as soon as he finished combing through it. We assumed he got it from Poseidon, but didn't enquire further when we had the first show of promising results with it."

"If I may," Rook paused when they all turned to look at him and the Colonel stared him down. "Missus Wang believes information on the Q-35 is being leaked to an off-site, third party, and that it is being done by either an executive or someone on the engineering team working on it. She believes the recipient is Poseidon. I have asked her to continue investigating, but I –"

"The information you are referring to is going precisely to whom it must," Moretti coldly cut in. "But I will be happy to ensure so myself. Regardless, that is not what I was asking about."

"Apologies, Colonel," Reynolds said, chewing at the inside of his cheek before shaking his head. "If you would like the rundown," He said. "Poseidon stole information on what you now have – the Q-35 – early into its development and sabotaged it. They took those trade secrets and used them to attempt to develop a similar project, one Duong referred to as 'Project SEMELE,' but RobCo acquired that information back and returned them to us here at REPCONN through Duong towards the end of last year as an unwritten exchange in the acquisition and partial merger. Since Duong has been detained, I suspect he could tell you more, but, the point is, with our information returned to us, we were able to develop a working prototype."

"One that is a significant improvement over what you had been working with," Julia pointedly added. "We solved the issue with the Compensation Field, have regularised the matter inversion on a polarised quantum spin, and have a weapon capable of firing faster, at higher power, and more accurately at long range than we initially set out to when we signed the contract in the first place."

"Not to mention the fact we are the only people with this information and a working prototype," Rook glibly went on. "It'll be ready for mass production at the end of the year. I'm sure the Pentagon will be happy to hear that."

"Most likely by the end of the year," Reynolds amended. "The engineering team leads aren't completely sure, yet, they can work out all the kinks in the design to make it a mass produced weapon. It's also significantly more advanced than just about any other plasma based weapon patented and tested in the West, as I'm sure Masters can attest, since she has been overseeing the project for the board."

Moretti considered that, taking a look through the notes he had been given.

"After we get to test the weapon with your engineers, I suspect the military will provide further funding to push the project over the line as soon as possible. I noticed the prototype materials are labelled as being unsuitable for extended field use. Are your engineers making progress on finding materials that are?"

"They are," Julia said, her lips flattening into a thin line. "Is that all you need from us?"

"For now, yes," Colonel Moretti said, slipping the notes into his bag. "Call the others back in. I'll take my leave shortly. It seems," He inclined his head towards Julia. "You were right about Steeple being the one holding things back, but, clearly, they're well managed now."

The faint smirk that crossed her face said it all. "I hedge my bets where I know I will win. I trust you'll do the same."