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Austin Marshal

A rash young TIB agent.

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nemo

Groups

Originally formed after the Tripartite Occupation of Terra, the TNG once controlled all of Terra. Currently, the TNG's jurisdiction includes most of Terra's territory, but not the entire world.
Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Special Agent Austin Marshall


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"I'm just here to do my job. If I have a lil' fun with it while I do it, well... is that really so bad?"


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Austin Marshall's TIB Clearance Card



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[[TIB ARCHIVE DATABASE: WELCOME, _User]]

[[TIB ARCHIVE / COMMAND:]]
>/access citizenprofile

[[TIB ARCHIVE-DATABASE / SPECIFICATION REQUIRED]]
>/AustinJamesMarshall

[[TIB ARCHIVE-DATABASE-AUSTINJAMESMARSHALL]]
[[<PROCESSSING REQUEST>]]
[[<NO CLEARANCE LEVEL REQUIRED>]]

/ACCESS GRANTED

Public TIB Archive File
Full Name: Austin James Marshall
Age: 25
Height: 6' 1"
Weight: 178 lbs
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Birthday: 4/1Image
Place of Birth: Terra, United States, Los Angeles
Nationality: Terran, Confirmed Citizen
Immediate Family: Edward John Marshall, Marissa Ester Marshall (deceased)
Maritial Status: Single
Occupation: Terran National Government, Social Worker
Medical Record: Citofacin, Attention Deficit Diesorder
Criminal History: Minor Theft, Assault




[[TIB ARCHIVE-DATABASE / COMMAND:]]

>/access classifiedprofile AustinJamesMarshall

[[TIB ARCHIVE-CLASSIFIEDDATABASE-AUSTINJAMESMARSHALL]]
[[<PROCESSSING REQUEST>]]
[[<CLEARANCE LEVEL THREE REQUIRED>]]
/PLEASE PROVIDE VALID CLEARANCE

>/insertclearance W36478 TLGEQ91684 REDWINEWITHFISH

[[TIB ARCHIVE-CLASSIFIEDDATABASE-CLEARANCECHECKPOINT]]
[[<PROCESSSING CLEARANCE>]]
[[<CLEARANCE ACCEPTED>]]
[[<COMMENCING RETINAL SCAN, REMAIN STILL>]]
[[<RETINAL SCAN ACCEPTED>]]
[[<WELCOME AGENT 616>]]
[[<Retrieving CLASSIFIEDPROFILE CBE-42-031>]]

Classified Archive Profile
Austin James Marshall is a Special Agent in the Terran Intelligence Bureau. He is Agent 317, callsign 'Vulpis'. He is primarily a field and reconnaissance agent with a mission-bias towards infiltration, extraction, assassination and counter-terrorism. At twenty-five years old, he is one of the youngest agents in the field. With over five successful missions under his belt, he is also one of the most renown.
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Young Austin, receiving combat training under the TIB.

Agent Marshall was marked by a spotter at age eighteen when he was observed stealing an expensive necklace from a jeweler. When confronted by security, he succeeded in talking his way out of the situation until the stolen necklace fell out of his jacket. Marshall proceeded to incapacitate three security guards before fleeing the store. He was tracked and found living in an abandoned warehouse. After a struggle, he was detained by Agent 489 and was brought back to Veritas where he was recruited of his own consent. His training began almost immediately.

For the next seven years, Marshall mastered every level of field training, from basic to tactical. He studied the cultures and histories of both Terran countries and many intergalactic nations, becoming fluent in over a dozen languages. He completed every available course for weapon handling, from light firearms to heavy explosives. Under the TIB academia, he was schooled in chemistry, physics, biology, mechanical engineering, advanced calculus, paranormal studies, theater, kinesiology, botany, basic medicine and toxicology. Despite destroying many of the training cars, he was taught to drive a plethora of different vehicles, from motor automobiles to heavy transports and even to spacefaring vessels.

Marshall's past is hazy and unclear, mostly because the agent rarely speaks of it. He recognizes having a mother and brother in his youth. They lived in extreme poverty, and the mother eventually died of untreated syphilis. Austin and his brother, Edward, split ways and became stragglers. It was during this time that Austin developed exceptional thieving and stealth capabilities. He also learned how to fight hand-to-hand in the Israeli defense system of Krav Maga, learning from an old master in exchange for whatever liquor he'd managed to steal that day.

Austin suffers from a rare neurological disease: citofacin (cito - quick, facina - action), caused by a malfunction in the motor and sensory neurons in the brain. As the neurons release catecholamine neurotransmitters between synapses, the velocity at which the neurotransmitters move is accelerated beyond all normal human parameters. As a result, the lag-time between thought and action is shortened drastically. For persons suffering from citofacin, thought and action are one. Years of therapy have allowed Austin to train his "disease", focusing himself to prevent every passing thought from being completed as action, consciously choosing what he will or will not do. His condition also gives him a considerable edge on the field. Without any lag time between brain and trigger finger, Austin is an extremely capable fighter and gunman, his kinetic speed almost inhuman. Nonetheless, Austin still struggles to maintain complete control of his disease, failing frequently.

In terms of his character, Marshall is an optimist and an extrovert. He is a great lover of humor and sarcasm, never failing to find something that he might smile (or smirk) at. Although he has consistently shown great bravery and courage on the field, his valor often evolves into blatant recklessness, particularly when confronted with bleak or hopeless situations. He is a risk-taker and a daredevil; the more dire and desperate the objective, the more enjoyable it seems to become to him. A skilled orator and speaker, Austin craves society and the company of others. When left alone for extended periods of time, he has been known to talk to himself. His bright character seems to be a helpful tool for the agent when he is tasked with impersonating a character or acting out a role in his various assignments.

Despite this, Marshall has frequently demonstrated narcissistic behavior and overtly forward sexual tendencies. He flirts recklessly and without restraint and has had dozens of known public relationships, all of which lasted no longer then a month. His ego frequently clashes with other authorities on the field, and Marshall will often abandon a set-plan in favor of a direction or course that he deems more effective. Despite his obvious tactical success on every mission he has been sent on, Marshall has been suspended from duty three times, detained four times and brought up on charges of sexual harassment twelves times.



>/access AustinJamesMarshall missionrecords

[[TIB ARCHIVE-CLASSIFIEDDATABASE-AUSTINJAMESMARSHALL-MISSIONRECORDS]]
[[<PROCESSSING REQUEST>]]
[[WARNING > CLEARANCE LEVEL FIVE REQUIRED]]
[[PROCESSED SECURITY CLEARANCE IS NOT ACCEPTABLE]]
[[<RETURNING TO ARCHIVE DATABASE>]]



[[TIB ARCHIVE DATABASE: WELCOME, _User]]

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So begins...

Austin Marshal's Story

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Austin Marshal exited his car just outside Drulovic's house, grinning a bit as he found himself in a familiar place. Here was again. Every mission...every assignment... every heart-warming cup of tea... it all started and ended here. It was good to be back.

Austin approached the door, knocking several times.

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Austin Marshal opened the door cautiously, remembering to remove his shoes and set them aside as he came in. It seemed like it had been years since he had been inside the Drulovic house.

"Director?" he called out, looking down the hallway to see her at last. So much had changed...

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Austin Marshal couldn't help but stare at Drulovic for some time upon first sight. He had known Plishkin had done a number on her...but even so, he could never have been prepared for how strikingly different she was now.

"Lunch...?" Austin said in a daze, as if he'd never heard the word before, "...oh yeah! Lunch...yes. Good. Quite. Lunch is good, yes." He regained composure of himself shortly, closing the door behind him. His mind worked furiously to collect the monstrous list of questions he had for the Director. There was a lot to know, and lunch sounded like the perfect time to talk it over.

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Austin Marshal shrugged, "I'm sure it's delicious. I'm actually pretty hungry...I haven't eaten since I first got back to Wing City, and that was a light meal." The agent stepped forward, ready to follow her down the hallway.

"I think we've got a lot to talk about, Director," Austin said, a serious, perhaps even impatient tone in his voice. Too much had happened since he had been gone, and most of them weren't very pleasant happenings. The agent couldn't but feel somewhat responsible for being unavailable at such times. He was ready to redeem himself...to put himself in action, to prove himself all over again.

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"More then I can count on my fingers," Austin smiled as he took a seat, "...or hairs on my head, for that matter." Ah, where would he begin? Her de-aging? Her kidnapping? The situation with the Taurons? And what were these reports he was getting about Marlene Angel involving herself in TIB affairs? There was so much to know, but Austin refused to rush the Director. Knowing her, all would be revealed in pleasant time over a hot meal and a piping cup of tea.

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"Thank you," he nodded, taking a satisfied whiff the soup. Once the tea was poured, Austin would wait until Drulovic was seated before beginning.

"I guess we should start off where we left off," he began, "I think the last time I saw you face-to-face was when Plishkin was working with you after the collapse of the Confederation. I see that the operation went... smoothly."

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"Well I can't say I'm fond it myself, Director," Austin mused, "though it beats taking the public bus." He took a short spoonful of soup, followed by a cup of tea. "Were you up to anything directly after your alteration? Any more visits from George?"

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"More or less," Austin smiled after another spoonfull, "although I doubt Cranford puts a bowl of home-made soup in front of you before your meetings." Austin took a sip of tea, mustering a more grave tone as he approached a darker topic. "I also understand you were...kidnapped. I was distraught to hear of it when I did."

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"Perhaps. If so I'm afraid I don't recall," Austin half-murmured, "the whole thing is tragic. What those men did to our Terrans was just...evil. Completely and totally." There was no disguising the obvious disdain in Austin's voice. Once again, regrets flooded his mind. If only he hadn't been absent...perhaps he could have done something. Prevented it from ever happening. Logic told him he would have probably ended up dead, but the fact remained: Austin hadn't been there.

"Terra's on the brink of war as it is, no? I imagine the politicians didn't exactly like the idea of three of our citizens being crucified."

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"I see," Austin hadn't eaten throughout the whole ordeal, "well for what it was, I'm glad it's over with. It's awful what happened to our fellow Terrans, but I'm certainly glad that you made it out alright, Director." THe agent took a sip of his tea, letting the intricate arabic flavors dispel some of his previous aggression. God this was good stuff. Almost made Austin wish he knew how to cook. Or boil water, for that matter...

"Oh, and another thing," Austin said after a bite of soup, "...I couldn't help but glance over a few documents. Did 'Marlene Angel' apply for a...a job? With us Terrans? The TNG?"

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"Not personally, actually," Austin confessed, "though I've heard quite a bit about her. She's got a considerable reputation on Terra. After all..." Austin raised an eyebrow, "...she hasn't always been 'on our side'."

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"Be as it may, Ms. Angel's track record is far from perfect," Austin pressed, "she's taken many Terran citizens into Aschen custody... executed some of them even. There have been reports of her torturing Terran men and women, some of them publicly. She also stood idly by while -her- people cut the population of our world in half."

Austin digressed, allowing himself another cup of tea. "Truth be told, Director, I'm not fond of the idea of having Marlene Angel involved in Terran affairs. She's a femme fatale, and I doubt if she can be trusted with any position in the TNG."

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"I understand," Austin nodded, "...and of course I'll respect any descision made by Mr. Mulavi. I suppose it was a bit out of my place to speak as I did." Austin returned again to his soup, taking several mouthfuls this time.

"Those are all the big happenings, no?" Austin asked, "am I missing anything? Those were by biggest concerns, I suppose."

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"Director?" Austin asked curiously, "are you sick, perhaps? The temperature seems fine to me. Maybe I'm just not noticing it." Well, wasn't that just a strange thing for Drulovic to say. Why would she feel compelled to tell him something so...obscure?

"And the Confederation might get back together? That's interesting," Austin smirked, taking another sip of tea.

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Austin Marshal looked onward at the various pictures, recognizing many of them. "You told me about the story behind many of them, but you never told me you -found- them." Austin's eyes flickered from photograph to photograph, remembering that day not long after Drulovic's divorce when they had put them up together.

"How did you find them?" he asked, finishing off her tea with a final sip.

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"CIA Files? Well I suppose you've got all kinds of connections, Director," Austin mused quietly, admiring the photograph as he spoke, "...although I hope the rest weren't so difficult to find." Austin's eyes shifted to more of the photographs arranged about the house, particularly those of a 'less-pleasant' nature. It was almost a bit eerie... the Drulovic in some of the photographs didn't look too different from the one sitting across from him now.

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Austin Marshal nodded gravely, his eyes shifting to each photograph as they were adressed. Even the way she had collected them told something about her past. "Geez..." Austin murmured under an exhale, "I guess you're lucky to have what you managed to salvage. These pictures must be worth their weight in gold to you." The Agent's hands reached briefly to numbly grasp his spoon before returning it back into the empty bowl. He wondered if there were any salvaged pictures of his own brother, Eddie, back at their old house. He wondered if they had even taken any pictures together.

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Austin Marshal smiled sheepishly, looking down towards his empty tea-cup as if slightly embarrassed, "Ah, mine was never a wealthy family, Director. We never took many pictures. My mother was in my life for only a short time before she died of a disease." The agent paused, bringing the memory back with obvious caution. "...syphilis, I think. My brother, eighteen at the time, raised me afterwards. We lived in one of the poorer parts of the Wing, so it wasn't easy." A small twinge of pain flashed across Austin's face as he remembered his brother.

But just as soon, the same boyish grin etched across Austin's jaw, quickly masking any previous vulnerability, "But we loved eachother to death. Nothing was too hard with Eddie around."

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"Not as close as I was, maybe," Austin reflected, "he got into some trouble a while back with some local gangs before I ever joined up with the TIB. He split town and I haven't seen him face-to-face since, though we talk often enough." The agent stretched his arms behind his back, quietly letting the conversation linger a bit before changing it all-together.

"...by-the-by, whatever happened to that other agent I saw with you after your injuries from ol' Georgie..." Austin asked curiously, "...I think she was with you during your brief brawl. Maria, was it? I can't quite remember..."

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Austin Marshal gulped quietly at the statement. It was so... callous. So immediate and factual. Drulovic's parents had been killed. Austin had never known.

"I'm...sorry, Director," Austin fumbled, unsure what else to say, "...that must have been a hard loss..." The agent racked his mind for any familiarity with the word 'Ustasa'. The word 'fascists' seemed synonomous, though he could be wrong.

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"No..." Austin shook his head, offering her a warm smile, "...I guess it wasn't my major." The agent's eyes softened as he took another glance back at the picture. Austin could never understand how much the smiling, light-hearted people in that photograph meant to Drulovic. He was never close to his own mother. He never looked his father in the eye. But he did know something about family. His brother hadn't taught him much, but he taught him how to smile; a skill Austin had never forgotten as long as he had lived.

"...there are bad people in the world, Director," Austin said calmly, knowingly, "...villians that do horrible things, often for no true reason at all. I'm sure you know that better then anyone else. That's why you're here. That's why we're here. To protect Terra." Austin nodded. These were the virtues that convinced Austin to join the TIB in the first place. "To protect people like them." He nodded back at the picture of Drulovic's parents.

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Austin Marshal was quite speechless for about five seconds after Drulovic had spoken. What? Just...what? When did they leave the grave, delicate subject of her parents being murdered to talk about the fragrance of cherry trees? For the first time in his life, Austin found himself with reason to question some part of Drulovic's sanity. Perhaps talking about such a personal topic wasn't good for her. Perhaps she actually just wanted to change the topic. Austin just wasn't sure anymore.

"I-...I've never been to Washington," Austin stammered, "Wing City doesn't have many trees, besides the Gardens. I don't go there very often."

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"I'm not sure if I believe in God," Austin answered plainly, looking down at his thumbs, "Eddie was strict Catholic. Took me to church a few times, even." The agent grinned. "He always punched me square in the jaw whenever I fell asleep. Happened a lot."

"But..." Austin shrugged, "...if there is a 'good and loving' God, then I like to think that he wouldn't let bad things happen without having some greater purpose for it all."

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Austin Marshal nodded, "well it's definitely one of your more explicit photographs," Austin confessed, "but it says a lot for what it is." The agent leaned back in his chair, grinning a bit as he made another quick sweep-through of all the pictures with his eyes.

"...which do you like the best?" he asked.

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Austin Marshal grinned, admiring the photo, "not half as bad as I do in the morning." He laughed quietly, looking from face to face across the photo. "Do you remember anything about them?" he asked curiously.