Following this.

MiB Headquarters,
Post-Black Oil Infestation Recovery Operation: Day Fourteen,
Office of Agent Zed

When Zed finally takes a break from reading the latest report from Arcturus IX ('....latest mentat stakes give a major civil war 2:1 odds....'), Agent B is standing in the doorway, about to knock on the jamb.

Well, the one part of the jamb that's left, anyway. Repairs are still heavily underway, and Zed is only in his office out of sheer stubbornness. His office platform is barely standing at all, and if Zed rolls his chair too far back, he'll go sailing right off the edge and splat ass-first on the floor of the Main Hall below.

Whatever B has to say, Zed knows it's only going to be more bad news, which means B is lucky he only gets a growl. "What is it?"

"Got the pattern analysis for that flash burn we found in the Main Hall, Chief."

"And?" Zed growls again.

"We've confirmed the flash does not conform to any known neuralyzer technologies."

Zed glares. "Are we even sure it was a neuralyzer?"

B shrugs. "No. And we won't be until we hear back from K and Stephanie Brown."

"[Absolutely staggering expletive deleted.]... Anything else?"

"Maybe," B pauses. "Air sniffers picked up exhalant from a carbon-based respiration system. We ran it through the known databases, and came up with nothing. But we're still looking."

"Well, at least we know whatever it was, they can breathe in a class-M atmosphere."

"Doesn't mean they need it though, Chief."

"No, but it does mean we can try to spike it if we have to. Sleeping compound, nerve gas, whatever the hell makes the son-of-a-bitch go down. If this bastard was responsible for the Black Oil, we're not fucking around if it shows up again."


bring_a_sponge: (Default)
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags