Post #2727197 in Lumaire Nights Remixed, a roleplay on RPG

9:30 pm
5487 Anderson Street, #32

Emmett lay on his couch, his head slightly turned towards the tv as the rerun of the gravity ball* game continued disappoint him. His team, the New Edo Wildcats were floundering hard as the Onaro Rollers managed to score yet another point. Essentially football with zero gravity and complete 360 degree movement in a nearly empty area, gravity ball was actually pretty entertaining to watch. Granted, the only thing that was making this game even slightly bearable was the fact that Emmett was about 4 beers into the match. His skin still ached slightly, and reporters had been hounding him ever since he marched Mathieu off to prison. He absent mindedly brought his hand up to his stitches on his forehead, rubbing them as if that was going to make the reminder go away.

At least he was home. Here, he was topless, wearing ragged shorts and drinking his fifth beer. Yeah, maybe not exactly the most pleasant of images, but who cares? He was at home, and if he couldn’t be completely comfortable here, where could he? A few bruises littered his skin as well, yet another painful reminder of the bomb he nearly avoided, but they would go away in a few days...hopefully. As the Rollers managed to score yet another point in just a few minutes, Emmett threw his hands up yet his expression didn’t change. Ultimately, it was a very lazy gesture. “C’mon...you guys have been practicing for this. Don’t make me switch to the Lumaire Lights. I will be very disappointed in all of you.” Emmett stated with practically no energy to his voice, barely managing to stifle a yawn.

“Police Alert.” Emmett slowly looked up at the ceiling. His personal VI in the apartment, which really was nothing more than a glorified answering machine, was also connected to intercept and relay any known police emergencies which would require the direction/aid of a MCU Detective. “The LR line of the Lumaire Metropolitan transit system has been targeted by an explosive attack. All operatives and units in the area are to respond to the crisis.” The LR Line? That was only ten minutes away from where Emmett lived. He gave an exasperated sigh as he slowly got up from the couch. He stumbled slightly as he felt light headed. Luckily vehicles nowadays were mostly automated so drinking and driving was rarely a thing anymore. Still, it would be best to not show up with liquor on his breath, even if he hadn’t planned on doing anything tonight.

Not like that was any different from any other night though.

Walking into his room and changing into something more befitting of a MCU detective, namely his clothes he had picked for tomorrow, he walked back out into his kitchen and dug into the cupboards. There he found a few pill bottles, caffeine supplements. These would hopefully jump start his system and get the blood flowing so his alcohol blood content wouldn’t be nearly as bad. Next, he wandered into the bathroom and quickly swished around some mouthwash. Smelling his own breath and deeming it...somewhat acceptable, he grabbed his gear and stepped out of his apartment.

9:50 pm
LR Line, Metropolitan Transit System

Emmett drove to the entrance of the Lumaire City Central Station, finding plenty of parking due to the entire area being cordoned off and emergency vehicles from nearly every single department being present. Police, Bomb Squad, Fire, Medical, even a contingent of VTOL pilots were flying overhead to keep an eye on things and maybe spot any suspicious individuals. Emmett pulled over to the side of the road, his lights flashing but no siren actually sounding as he stepped out of his car. While a number of techs and officers were milling around outside, most tending to the wounded, Emmett stared at the entrance to the Central Station. Black scorch marks could be seen on the stairs leading in, but if that was from the bomb or from the subsequent fires he couldn’t tell. Sure, it was made of metal and concrete, but Emmett knew better than anyone that there were substances out there capable of burning anything.

More than a few tarps were laid out, filled with bodies...or at the very least, enough body parts to frankenstein back into a body. Emmett already didn’t like the numbers, easily into the double digits. The bomber had hit during the evening rush hour. When people working the evening shifts were just getting off and heading home, and people working the night shifts were heading into their jobs. Whoever planted the bomb knew this, although that information wasn’t exactly classified. A simple single day of recon would have provided that knowledge, and while this place was meant to withstand some extreme punishment, people were not. He gave a sigh to himself, not sure if he wanted to subject himself to potentially more explosions so soon after his church stunt, but a job was a job.

With little flair, Emmett made his way towards the Central Station, flashing his badge to anyone who looked ready to stop him. One of the perks and downsides of a Detective, unless they were famous, they rarely looked like they belonged at a crime scene. As his feet made their way down the stairs, the crunch of hardened ash and blasted tile assailed his ears. The smell of smoke, burning flesh and hair, plus a number of unknown scents filled his nostrils. He had to brace himself to not gag from the array of different things that ultimately formed something that could be equated to puke or rancid dog shit. He waved a hand in front of his nose slightly, as if that would somehow magically make everything better while his face scrunched into that of disgust.

Upon getting to the bottom of the stairs and entering the station proper, he was met with the true force of the LSPD Law and Rescue teams. The Central Station itself was fairly large, basically one open area with multiple lines running in from all over the city. From here, one could get to any end of the city in about fifteen minutes, and the licenses required to ride were fairly cheap. What that meant was that a lot of lower middle class families used the lines as their main modes of transportation. All in all, there were 6 lines, and on one of them the train had been completely flipped over and demolished. Emmett was still a fair distance away, but even he could see the bodies still sticking out of the wreckage, unmoving and undoubtedly dead.

The number continued to climb.

Stairways ran over these lines, above the trains as they came in, allowing people to get past the trains and onto the one that actually took them where they were heading. A number of these bypasses were crumbled and shattered, littering the tracks and open area with debris. Benches were completely destroyed, pillars that supported the roof had been shattered but, thankfully, the LSPD fire department had already set up emergency supports to make sure the roof of the Metro wouldn’t cave. A number of small boxes, which used to house the Mag Line workers in charge of tickets and keeping track of the trains, were also complete wrecks. Emmett was able to figure out what general direction the bomb had exploded from due to the amount of wreckage, scorch marks, and bodies. Whoever did this knew their stuff, knew where to do the most damage, and worst of all, didn’t care about collateral damage.

Or maybe that was their goal?

Rescue crews were hard at work trying to make sure structural integrity was solid, and recover bodies of those unfortunate enough to be close enough to the blast zone. A number of the bodies along the outer edge still groaned with pain, but the EMT’s were already trying to do their magic on them. Further away from the blast zone, one could say on the opposite end of ground zero, there was a temporary command zone set up with a member from each of the respective departments standing around it. The LSPD Blues, the police and SWAT of the area. Not necessarily MCU but they were the people called in when something required an immediate response or just a presence, and not the skill of the MCU detective’s logical thinking. The LSPD Whites, EMT’s and doctors out to save lives and do what they could for the injured. Typically speaking, Emmett had a great deal of respect for these individuals because their line of work didn’t allow for much exposure or gratitude. The high priced doctors and people who made way too much money for an individual were the ones who were often on the receiving end of the praise. Yet despite this, Emmett had yet to meet an EMT complain about recognition. These were the people who truly wanted to help others. Finally there were the LSPD Reds, the fire and rescue department. Men, women and bots whose sole job was to put out fires and pull people from dangerous situations. Often times the Blues and Reds conflicted on just who should have operational command, and more often than not, these two factions failed to come to a decent compromise. While Emmett could say that the Reds were some of the bravest sons of bitches he had ever known, he didn’t know if he could chalk that up to actual courage or insanity. A number of them were adrenaline junkies simply funnelling their need for a thrill into something that helped other people in the process. While a part of Emmett could get behind that, he knew that saving people wasn’t their ultimate goal. That isn’t to say they were all like that, but Emmett could say with a 90% certainty that a good chunk of them were.

Emmett started to approach the table, nodding to the emergency crews as he walked by. Once he got closer, he could hear the debate going on between the powers that be.

“We could have people still trapped underneath the debris, we should prioritize figuring out how to get them out.”

“We’ve already performed the scans, we’ve marked who’s alive. You know who those people are, for right now, we need resources into making sure that the rest of this station isn’t going to come down on our heads.”

“We’ve already seen to that.”

“Well would you mind explaining the creaking?”

“Your old legs betraying you?”

“Fuck off, now’s not the time for jokes.”

“I wasn’t joking, maybe you should leave such matters to those of us with some youth left in our system.”

“Are you fu…” Emmett strode up to the table, looking at the papers and datapads that littered the surface. Everyone stopped to stare at him as he picked up a couple of the pads, sifting through the information presented. Most of it was general statistics on the casualty rates, possible solutions to digging out the deceased currently underneath the overturned train, and there was even a section on how to announce this publicly. They may have been arguing, but there was still enough information here to indicate they had had some sort of plan ahead of Emmett getting here.

There was a long pause, as if the crew around Emmett were waiting for him to introduce himself. Instead, he continued looking through the information until finally the Police Lieutenant spoke up first, clearing his throat. “Excuse me...who are you?” Emmett peered up from the datapad he had been reading.

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just waiting for your little spat to be done with so we can really get to work.” Emmett said, waving a hand slightly to get them to continue. When they started looking at each other, not saying a word, Emmett took a breath. “You’re done? Good, because the worst part of my job is managing insignificant arguments between people who should have enough common sense to know now is not the time for a pissing contest.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” The Fire Captain stated, his eyes narrowing at Emmett. Emmett shrugged, tapping his wrist to bring up his official MCU badge for them to see. A brief look of ‘Oh Shit’ came across their faces as they realized what had just happened.

“I believe that will suffice.” Emmett stated, knowing full well he was essentially living up to the stereotype that MCU Detectives were condescending assholes, but right now he was tired, hyped up on caffeine, several beers into his night AND missing a gravity ball game. He was in no mood for games or dick measuring competitions. “As of this moment, the MCU is assuming tactical command of this operation.”

“With all due respect Detective...do you even have the first clue as how First Responders work? Have you been a part of secure and rescue operations?” This time it was the Fire Captain that spoke up, he was a young one and his voice was filled with an exuberant condescension. He believed himself to be king shit, and Emmett wasn’t about to let that fly.

“First off, let’s go around the table and introduce ourselves. I’ll start: I’m Emmett Tigron.” Emmett pointed to the Police Lieutenant.

“Lieutenant Tyler Kang.” The Lieutenant was older, most likely into his late forties, but still held the bulk of someone half his age. Normally Lieutenants were relegated to desk duty and delegation, so he was most likely here due to the severity of the situation and the timing. While there were no obvious cybernetics, but a couple scars along his weathered face indicated some form of bone or muscle grafts in his face. Nerve damage? Broken cheek bones? Emmett doubted it was cosmetic, seeing as the scar would be practically invisible if that was the case. The Lieutenant was freshly shaven though, obviously having taken the time to make sure he was presentable before showing up here, a couple of nicks on his chin told Emmett that he had rushed through it. The man had grey eyes, an oddity and normally prone to the ‘dead’ look that one would expect from a corpse, yet there was fire there. This man took his job seriously and expected others to do the same. His uniform, while not immaculate, showed signs of maintenance. He wore no helmet, allowing his short brown and gray hair to be seen by those around him. All in all, he looked like a no nonsense man who preferred to speak less and act more.

“Captain Mitchell Produn.” The Fire Captain spoke up next, his chest puffing with the enunciation of his name. There was no doubt as to how this man got his command, it was through his actions rather than his mouth or even air of command. The man didn’t seem to hold any clout with the other ranking members of the LSPD first responders, meaning he was new. He wore the standard issue Captain’s Firefighter garb, which looked more akin to combat armor than anyone would like to admit. His helmet sat off to one side of the table, essentially a clear visor wrapping around the head but reinforced to withstand extreme heat and pressure. Scuff marks on his armor, including black scorch marks and dent indicated that not only was this guy an ‘act first, think later’ kind of person, but that he had used that exact mentality here. Still, the fact that the supports were in place, many injured people had been hauled out onto the road above them and a number of firefighters were still trying to get to others told Emmett that, even if he didn’t necessarily have the air of a leader about him, the other Reds respected him enough to follow his commands and do as they were told. Age wise, he looked to be about the same age as Emmett, in his late twenties. Subtle green lines ran along his jaw, indicating some form of cybernetics, most likely used to increase his resistance to heat and fire. His eyes glowed green, another cybernetic that was most likely used to increase his job efficiency. His chin was unshaved though, sporting what looked like a styled 5 o’clock shadow. It meant he kept the stubble on purpose, preferring it to the clean shaven look and cementing Emmett’s idea of the man being a wannabe bad boy.

“Emily Mann.” The EMT in charge of saving these people from their injuries and the only woman currently at the table. Once again, she looked to be around Emmett’s age, although probably a few years older, putting her in her early 30’s. She wore what looked to be a utilitarian garb, or at the very least, not something you would expect someone of a leadership role to be wearing. Her attire was the same as the other EMT’s, with the exception of some yellow bars on her utility straps. A white pressed shirt filled to the brim with pockets sporting anything from syringes to pills to nanites complimented her black slacks that had more straps attached to them than a busy night at the BDSM house. Every single one of them held, at minimum, two different things that Emmett couldn’t even guess to their function. They all looked alien to him, but obviously she could tell what each one did. Her hands were placed on the table, and judging by the dirt, grime and dried blood, she had been tending to the wounded before being pulled over here. Her face, while she tried to hide it, was contorted into an expression of impatience. She wasn’t one to talk things through with others, she was here simply to fix people and save them if she could. Her matte black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, but the one thing that seemed to set her apart from the others at the table was the fact that she had an honest to god patch over her eye. Much like the pirates of old, it was a jarring addition to an otherwise stereotypical ‘busy nurse’ persona she was giving off. By the way she was moving her head slightly more towards whoever was speaking, Emmett could say with a fair amount of confidence that she simply didn’t have an eye in that socket. She was so used to it that her movements betrayed her rather lazy attempt to hide it. Along with that, seeing as the sleeves or her shirt were rolled up to her elbows, several scars could be seen lining her skin. Unlike cybernetic implant markers though, these were jagged and rough, most likely from some form of attack or even self harm.

Just like that, Emmett had more than enough information to start dealing with the people around the table, even if this wasn’t his own comfort zone, the MCU held authority over every Law and Rescue faction, save for the military. While they had access there, they couldn’t order any soldiers around unless they were given express permission from the commanding officer or had a government issued decree. “There, now at least I can put faces to names.” Emmett placed his hands in his pockets, showing a display of casual confidence that he was positive irked the team to no end. After all, he looked young and now acted like it, much in the same way that Produn was doing. “To answer your question Captain, no I can’t say I have much experience in the way of dealing with search and rescue operations.” Emmett started, looking over at Produn. “That being said, I have plenty of experience in dealing with people, getting things that need to be done, done, and, when push comes to shove, figuring out how to bury those who get in my way.”

“Are you threatening us Detective?” Mann asked, her eye narrowing at him once again.

“Yes.” Emmett stated so flatly that the others actually flinched. “I’m here, after I’ve already put in 10 hours at work, pulled from my couch where I was enjoying a gravity ball game and ushered here. Not to mention that I’m not too keen on dealing with another bomber after I was nearly killed a couple of days ago from one.” Emmett looked around the table at the people. “The last couple of days, for me, have been a bit of a shit show. What that means for you people, is that I will not tolerate egos or bullshit. Captain Produn…”

“Yeah?” He answered.

“If I hear a comment like what you said to Lieutenant Kang, I will personally crush your professional career before it can start. Lieutenant Kang offers something that you can’t possibly give us at this exact moment...and that is experience.” Emmett looked over at Kang, who seemed to start beaming at the unexpected defense of his person. “And Lieutenant Kang, you need to get off your high horse and realize that you are not the young buck that you used to be. While I can look at you and say that you’ve taken care of yourself, your lack of cybernetics leaves you at a disadvantage that Produn can easily take care of. So stop playing the role of crotchety old man and start playing the role of mentor.”

Emmett finally turned to Emily. “And Dr. Mann, if you don’t stop glaring at me with your one good eye in an attempt to mentally turn my brain into mush, I will grab another EMT who’s easier to work with and make them the operational lead of the EMT’s...do I make myself clear?”

“You can’t do that…” She stated, seemingly faltering on her words as she wasn’t sure that he could. She played her hand, because honestly, Emmett couldn’t.

“I can, and will. So stop making wrinkles on your face and start helping with a bigger game plan.” Emmett flipped a couple of datapads on the table. “Now, if we’re done trying to have a fourway with each other, can we get down to business?” Emmett looked to Produn. “I assume the Reds were first on the scene, what can you tell me about the initial minutes.” Produn seemed to shift in his place, but quickly settled into just playing along.

“When we got here, the bomb seemed to have some kind of incendiary component. Flames were pouring out of the mouth of the entrance. Attempts to quell it with standard water wasn’t working, so we sent in some bots equipped with neutralizer and had them start spraying everything down. It took us several minutes before we could begin to send in anyone else.”

“When did Bomb Squad show up?” Emmett asked, looking over at Kang.

“Shortly after the Reds had managed to get their people into the station. I had them push up behind the Reds in case there was another explosive down here waiting to go off.”

“I’m assuming there wasn’t?” Emmett asked, to which Kang simply shook his head.

“Nah, we swept the whole building and found no traces. They found the ground zero of the explosive in their search though and they’re analyzing it as we speak.”

“Good work, and good call with the supports Captain.” Emmett pointed at the makeshift supports implemented by the Reds. “Doctor, what can you tell me about the wounded, specifically, was there anything out of the ordinary regarding their injuries that you wouldn’t normally associate to a bombing?”

“None that I could tell, but that’s just an initial and hurried assessment.” Emily stated, crossing her arms in front of her. “I was too busy trying to save lives...something I could be doing right now.”

“How many are we looking at right now?” Emmett asked, bypassing the passive aggressiveness altogether.

“At least 30 dead, triple that number wounded...many of the wounded won’t make it to morning. My best, and honestly, most conservative estimate of total dead ends around 50.”

“50 dead…” Emmett stated, stepping back from the table and placing a hand on his chin. “Do we have any idea how many people are still trapped or waiting for rescue?”

“We’re still pulling people from the debris, but the Blues are slowing us down while their bomb squad checks pretty much every single fucking rock.” Captain Produn stated, glaring over at Kang. Before the Lieutenant could respond, Emmett did it for him.

“Tell me Produn, would you prefer to come across another explosive face first, or with someone else attempting to disarm it before it kills you and about two dozen others?”

“Uhhh...well the second option obviously…”

“Then stop your bitching.” Emmett said, once again earning a flinching movement from the Captain. “The Bomb Squad has their job just as you do yours. Yes, it will slow things down but it’s the difference between a couple more people losing their lives, or the rest of us should the bomber have thought about this particular avenue.” Emmett looked over at Kang. “That being said, we do have lives on the line either way, is there any way that we could speed up the process?”

“I could bring in a specialized sensor and set up shop down here, but that would require clearance on a level I simply can’t authorize, not to mention the liability should it get damaged.” Emmett pulled up his phone and, with a few taps, had Kang’s number. Life was made easier when the MCU had access to all records of the people connected to the LSPD infrastructure.

“Done, if something happens they can rip me a new one, but get it in here.” Kang looked ready to move before Emmett snapped his fingers. “Also Lieutenant, you’re on crowd control. Reporters are already clammering around the line, get out there and make a statement, calm them down and keep this as low level as you can make it.”

“Calm the media down after an explosion at the LR Central Station...How?”

“You have a mouth, you know how to talk? Figure something out Lieutenant, you should have enough years on the force to know how to quell the media by this point.” Kang stiffened as he realized that his previous strength was now being used as a target by the very person who had brought it up. His pride was at stake, and Emmett was banking on that. From the short time he had analyzed Kang, he knew that he wasn’t someone to back down from a challenge, especially if that challenge was also against his very person.

“I’ll get it done.” Kang stated, making his way to the stairs while pulling out his own phone to call in for the sensor.

“Captain Produn, I have nothing to give you aside from continuing what you’re doing. Once the sensor is in place, you and Dr. Mann will work together to figure out the worst possible cases that are in need of dire rescue and prioritize them, in the meantime, continue as you were.”

“Got it.” Produn stated, grabbing his helmet and donning it before running off to a group of Reds who were trying to get through some rubble.

“As for you Doctor, I need a list of the wounded who can be airlifted out of here. I want them walked to the VTOL’s if possible.”

“What purpose could that possibly serve?” She asked, although Emmett could tell it was taking her just a little bit of effort to not just outright deny him.

“Media is already on site, and at the moment, they need some form of reassurance. Seeing people walk out of such a situation, even if they need help, gives the people watching at home that this incident isn’t as bad as it really is.”

“So it’s political.”

“Of course it’s political. Do you want people to be sitting at home, scared of taking any of the Mag Trains anywhere? Scared of walking down the streets? We need to reassure them, comfort them, hell tuck them in and read them a bedtime story if necessary.”

“This feels scummy.” Emily said, looking at Emmett who pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Of course it is, I’m telling you to lie to the public.” Emmett said, looking over at her. “I’m doing it so that when it comes out that I’m the MCU Agent in charge of this operation, I’m not bogged down by unanswerable questions and cameras while I try to figure out who caused this mess.” Emmett looked up at her. “I’m asking for your help, you can either give it and make my life easier, or you don’t, at which point it takes me longer to find the bomber who may decide to strike again. At that point, you’re not saving lives, you’re causing death.”

“Trying to pin your potential failure on me?” Emily asked, defenses going up once again.

“If that’s what it fucking takes.” Emmett said, walking around the table and standing in front of her at his full height. “I’m not here to make friends or be nice Doctor, I will do whatever it takes to find the assholes who think it’s a fucking game to disrupt the city I love with death and carnage. If you don’t want to help me, then move aside but so help me God I will not tolerate you deliberately getting in my way...am I clear?” Just like that, he had called her bluff. Her entire appearance was one of defiance, but it was a shield. Emmett hated doing this, but he didn’t have time to work around the issue.

Emily shrinked and revealed who she really was, before whatever event had happened to leave her in such a scarred state. “Of course Detective, I will get right on that.” Her voice was softer, lighter, held back. Chances are the only reason she had gotten this sort of command was because her wounds had given her this shield of defiant absolution. She turned quickly, walking around Emmett to get to the wounded and start her task. Who would have thought that the person giving him the least trouble would be the Fire Captain? Emmett shook his head, realizing that he may have cemented a very harsh image of himself in that Doctor’s mind, not to mention Kang and Produn, but at the moment he had more important things to get to.

Emmett wandered around the ruined station, watching as every single person down here either had a person, or was so injured that moving them was dangerous in its own right. It took him a few moments before he managed to catch sight of the Bomb Squad’s logo currently mixed in with the destruction of the train that littered the station. As Emmett got closer to the train, noticing that the damage did seem to indicate that the bomb exploded from the particular section they were standing in, he could hear the conversation going on between a number of the techs.

“This is a weird one, the metal shape of the cabin is bent both outwards...and inwards.”

“Any ideas as to what could have caused this? Maybe some sort of implosion device?”

“That doesn’t explain how the carnage managed to make it all the way to the stairs of the station though, implosions, regardless of power, tend to be small and controlled.”

“Right, not to mention that they’re relatively clean. Are we barking up the wrong tree here?”

“Maybe, get me some metal scrapings from the side of the train, I’m going to talk to the Detective over there.” Emmett paused, he hadn’t even realized that they had noticed his presence. Granted, these guys were sticklers for details, considering their line of work. It was only natural that they could split their focus like that. With that line being said, one of the technicians got up from his crouched position, crossed the wreckage of the train, and joined Emmett on the platform. Once he was up, he offered a small smile and his hand.

“Sergeant Ivan Serge.” Emmett took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Detective Emmett Tigron...and I’m sorry, Serge?” The man gave a short laugh.

“My real last name and a bit of a running joke around here. Shall we?” Ivan motioned them away from the detonation site so they could talk a bit. Once they were far enough away, Emmett took a moment to gain a mental image of the man.

He wore the standard issue uniform of a Bomb Squad technician, which was essentially a Blue uniform with extra explosive padding. It limited movement but in a pinch could take a frag grenade directly to the chest. Normally these guys weren’t in the thick of a fight anyways. He didn’t wear his helmet, which unlike the Blue uniform, included a whole suite of bomb disarming software that assisted the user in life or death situations when dealing with something that could end your life in a fiery flash. The man was older, closer to Lieutenant Kang’s age actually, and it looked like he was a lifelong Sergeant. Some people simply preferred things that way, not wanting to get bogged down in politics and instead sticking to the field. He had a very full beard that was completely dark with black hair, not a single streak of gray to it. This is what offset Emmett so much, as his hair on top of his head was nearly completely white. He most likely colored it, or had some rare genetic condition that just made that happen. Wrinkles lined his face but he didn’t appear to be slowed by age as his green eyes pulsed with an energy and alertness that one would find in a rookie looking to prove himself. Subtle veins could be seen on his right temple, where veins shouldn’t bulge, meaning there was some form of cybernetic connected to his optic nerve. Most likely some kind of virtual interface or overlay.

“Start from the top.” Emmett said, looking slightly past him towards where the rest of the bomb squad was still gathered. Ivan looked back at the train, took a moment to collect his thoughts, then started.

“Well it appears from our investigation that the bomb was transported with the train into Central Station, where it then exploded. We can’t tell if it was timed or triggered yet, although we’re leaning towards the former due to the construction and make of materials that make up the station.” Ivan pointed up at the ceiling. “While not necessarily meant to block signals, since people get mighty upset when they can’t use their phones, it does make any radio broadcasts difficult. A point to point transmitter would also be useless, considering the bomber would have had to be in the blast zone. A timer makes the most sense.”

“Seems reasonable.” Emmett chimed in, before allowing Ivan to continue.

“The issue we’re having with the bomb...well is the nature of the explosion.” Ivan pointed to the train and traced the fractured metal with his finger. “While the metal is bent outwards now, indicating a standard explosive of impressive proportions, a quick look see showed that it had actually bent inwards first, not only that but there are ripples.”

“Ripples?” Emmett asked, gaining a nod from Ivan.

“Like you would see on a body of water, the metal of the train was either forced into such movements or heated to a degree as to become malleable for a few moments before the blast.”

“Do you have any idea what could cause this?” Ivan shook his head.

“We’ve been on top of the black market in the city for some time now, but the explosives they have, while dangerous in their own right, don’t match this pattern. In fact, I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Sounds like an implosion device to me.” Emmett stated, earning a nod from Ivan.

“Right, and that was our initial assumption as well. The issue with that theory is that we have a catalogue of all known implosion devices and none of them match this signature. Not to mention that implosion devices are used to actually prevent collateral damage, not cause it. They are inherently small explosions with a more deadly ‘core’ for lack of a better word.”

“So if it was a true implosion device, the train would be decimated…”

“But the rest of the station would have been only minimally damaged, maybe from a bit of debris, but that’s it.”

“So what I’m getting here is that this explosive isn’t something being mass produced or using blueprints from previous designs.”

“No...we’re dealing with a homebrew here, at least that’s my assumption.” Emmett reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the tiny little silver cross that he kept in there and giving it a rub.

“That makes whoever did this more dangerous than the average chaos provider.”

“We’re still collecting samples, some odd things about those but I can’t go into details until I get the CSI’s to look at them. Sorry I don’t have more Detective.”

“It’s fine Sergeant. Keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll do what I do.” Emmett said, watching as Ivan gave a nod and walked back to where the rest of his crew was. A homebrew device aboard a train in one of the most condensed and populated areas of the city. To be honest, they were lucky there weren’t more casualties, but chances are this was a test. The bomb could have failed to live up to expectations, or the bomber could have made a mistake in terms of placement or calculations. One way or another, Emmett didn’t think this was the end of this particular little adventure.

For now, he had to do the rest of the boring detective stuff.

3:30 am
MCU HeadQuarters

Life was Hell.

Emmett sat at his desk combing through security footage and witness reports with all the enthusiasm of a zombie. He had spent the better part of 6 hours coordinating the mess that was Central Station, getting people in and out of the area and making sure the press only saw what he wanted them to see. He wanted to believe he handled it well, but the media was extremely good at what they did and they always found something they weren’t supposed to. On Emmett’s desk sat five different cups that were all a quarter filled with black sludge that was once coffee. Emmett himself looked like death warmed over, as the bags under his eyes were black enough to make people think he had gotten into a fight. His eyelids were constantly half closed and his entire body moved with all the enthusiasm of a plague victim.

The tapes held nothing of interest. It got up to the point the train pulled into the station, then they all went to static as the train exploded. Emmett got nothing of value from any of them, including no sign of a triggerman. Meaning that Ivan’s theory of a timed explosive seemed to be correct. If someone had pushed a button somewhere, or looked like they were waiting for the train to arrive, Emmett liked to believe that he would have found it.

Then again, he had caught himself staring at a single panel on a wall for ten minutes because it happened to be slightly skewed to the left.

Emmett reached over for one of the cups, grabbing it and slamming it back only to nearly gag and spit it up all over the floor. He looked into the cup and saw that he had grabbed one of the old ones, which had congealed into something that looked like the Blob but with mixed parentage. Just as he thought about getting up to grab another cup of coffee, his computer dinged with two separate emails. One was from Wayne down in the morgue with the bodies of those who had perished during the explosion, and another was from a Doctor Mikhail Ludvanna from the CSI team. They both wanted him to go to their respective departments, but considering that Emmett was having a very hard time moving his body, he sent an email to Mikhail to meet him in the morgue. Whatever he had to say could be done in the presence of the fallen...and also without having Emmett move more than he had to.

MCU Morgue

“Wayne.” Emmett said as he walked through the doors into the morgue once more. He spent way too much time down here where all the people reminded him of his current state.

“Detective.” The cyborg stated, giving Emmett a cursory glance over. “Are you doing alright?”

“Long night...is Dr. Mi-” Nearly on cue, the door behind Emmett opened to reveal an aging man. Bald, eyes pulsating with several glowing lights and his left arm was obviously augmented. His white lab coat was completely pristine without a single wrinkle to it, and his posture was immaculate. Already Emmett could feel his hackles rising, this guy thought himself above the average pleb and wasn’t afraid to let others know it. His eyes locked onto the detective, his wrinkly face giving a frown as he saw who he was dealing with.

“Detective Tigron.” Mikhail stated, his voice containing a light accent of what sounded like Serbian and Russian. “You look like shit.” Emmett gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Emmett hadn’t had the personal pleasure of dealing with Mikhail, but he had heard about him from other detectives. Intelligent, intuitive and extremely good at what he did...also arrogant, rude, crass, and pompous. The winning combination of smarts and mouth that earned him a wide birth from most of the others working in the MCU.

“Yep...a long night will do that to you.” Mikhail gave a smug smirk, tapping a finger against his temple.

“Then might I suggest a cerebral adrenaline implant? Keeps one mentally alert for long periods of time if in need, much better than the amount of coffee I believe you’ve digested?”

“Breath analyzer implanted in there too?” Emmett asked.

“No, you just reek of old coffee.” Emmett bit the inside of his cheek. This was going to be fun to trudge through.

“Let’s...just get down to business.” Emmett stated, beckoning Mikhail over to where Wayne was waiting patiently over one of the bodies. This one appeared to be shredded, obviously closer to the explosion when it happened. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Most of the injuries correlate to blunt force trauma that one would expect from an explosion of this magnitude, not to mention the second and third degree burns.” Wayne stated, pointing to various points over the body. “This individual seemed to be on the platform the train arrived at, but was shielded from vaporization due to the metal container of the locomotive itself. The reason I called you down here though, is due to one specific injury.”

Wayne walked to his desk, collected a couple of data pads, and handed them to Emmett and Mikhail. “This individual, a David Call, had no prior history of arthritis or any degenerative bone disease, but as you can see from these scans, it appears as if his bones have suffered extreme wear and tear similar to those of long time diseases such as the ones I mentioned.”

“Wear and tear? Any idea what could cause this?” Mikhail cleared his throat as Emmett finished his sentence.

“If I may Detective, I believe this could fold into my hypothesis.” Mikhail produced his own datapad, handing it over to Emmett. “The Bomb Squad sent over their findings to us late last night and since then my team and I have spent hours searching through everything. What we found has us a little...disturbed.” Emmett stared at the datapad, but Mikhail had done nothing to dumb down the terminology for him. He could barely understand what was written in front of him, let alone the point that Mikhail was trying to make. Emmett handed the pad over to Wayne.

“Which would be?” Mikhail looked at Emmett as if he was stupid, after all, he had just handed him the datapad with all the information on it.

“Dark Matter?” Wayne asked, looking up from the pad in front of him. Mikhail gave a smile of relief, before it quickly turned to arrogance.

“Well at least the Cyborg gets it. Yes, Dark Matter. Not something you would find in your run of the mill bomb, or anything that your typical terrorist or thug could get a hold of.”

“Wayne has a name, I suggest you start using it.” Emmett said, immediately moving to rectify the already prevalent problem and potential racism from the CSI tech. Mikhail seemed to move past it, brushing it off.

“We’re not here to talk semantics about social etiquette Detective. Anyways, Dark Matter is used in a number of practical and experimental applications. If we are to use the evidence gathered here by the cy...Wayne...then I feel safe in hypothesizing the cause of such injuries.” Emmett waited for an answer, but Mikhail seemed perfectly content waiting for Emmett to ask, a slight power play on his part. Luckily, Wayne answered first.

“A black hole.” Mikhail glared at Wayne for less than a second before flying past it and nodding.

“Yes, more or less. While not the same as a naturally occurring black hole, which requires a star reaching critical mass and collapsing in on itself, the same effect can be achieved through the manipulation of Dark Matter’s molecular structure.”

“I’ve heard of this kind of tech before.” Emmett stated, looking between the two of them. “From what I understand, not only is it not publically accessible, it’s also highly unstable, incredibly dangerous and years if not decades from perfection.”

“All very true points Detective.” Wayne said, placing the pad down on the table. “However, the injuries would fall in line with a sudden shift in gravitational pull, not to mention it would explain how the train itself ended up in it’s current state. The black hole bomb would have pulled everything towards it first, then exploded outwards. Judging by the amount of damage to the train and this man’s bones, I can calculate that there was a 10x increase in gravitation pressure.”

“Ten times? Yes, that would be roughly what one would need in order to do this kind of damage in seconds.” Mikhail said, rubbing his chin and looking at the corpse. “Considering his placement, the train’s exterior and the lack of other residue, do you feel comfortable in agreeing with me that this bomb probably took anywhere between 5 and 15 seconds to fully detonate?” Wayne paused for a moment before nodding.

“The calculations check out.” Emmett held up a finger for a moment while the other hand rubbed his forehead.

“So, just so I have a complete picture here...we’re talking about a black hole bomb using materials not accessible to the public and enough power to nearly completely destroy Central Station?”

“Yes Detective, do try to keep up.” Mikhail stated, stepping back from the corpse. Emmett resisted the urge to shoot this man in the kneecap.

“Did the bomb squad give you an indication of size?” Emmett asked, to which Mikhail shook his head.

“No, but judging by the amount of dark matter they managed to seize, it couldn’t have been larger than a fist.”

“A bomb the size of a fist took out an entire station?” Emmett asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Yes, after all Black Holes are some of the most destructive and powerful phenomenons we’ve ever recorded. The power they can take and produce simply can’t be measured.”

“I would like to add…” Wayne spoke up. “That while this is a very real possibility, we don’t have any concrete proof that this is what happened.”

“I’ve worked with less.” Emmett said, staring at the body. “Doctor, I need a list of anyone and everyone who would have access to Dark Matter. Wayne, let me know if anything else crops up.” Emmett paused for a second, taking a breath and making sure he could form words properly considering how much caffeine was no longer flowing through his body. “You’ve both given me your thoughts and ideas, which are much appreciated. Here’s mine...this was a test. They struck a highly condensed and populated area at a time they knew would contain as many people as possible, not to mention the underground nature of the target. My guess is they wanted to see how much damage a single bomb could do, especially against a hardened target such as a subway, which might as well be a bunker. Whoever did this will be looking at this event with an analytical eye and figuring out how to improve.”

“We don’t know their motives or agenda.” Emmett continued. “Which means we’re working with next to nothing in terms of who or what is doing this. I’m going to go through the footage and witness reports again, see if I missed something. In the meantime, you two have your tasks. We good?”

“I would very much like to see who managed to weaponize such a device in this fashion. You’ll have your list before the morning is over Detective.” Mikhail stated, giving a nod and wandered out of the room. Emmett looked to Wayne, who gave nod.

“As always Detective, I will perform as requested.”

“Knew you would, also if Mikhail starts giving you shit again, let me know.” Wayne tilted his head slightly.

“I don’t understand. Was he insulting me?” Emmett started to say something but cut himself off.

“No, nevermind Wayne. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be at my desk.” Emmett had a lead now, and a renewed sense of investigation. Black hole bombs? Cmon, what was the world coming to. Still, science begged for innovation, good or bad.

It was Emmett’s job to catch the bad ones, and he wouldn’t rest until they were caught.

6:54 am
MCU Headquarters, Detective Tigron’s desk.

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*Gravity Ball: A form of football played in zero gravity

Snippet #2727197

located in Lumaire Nights, a part of Lumaire Nights Remixed, one of the many universes on RPG.

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