[b]THE CHAMPIONS JET OVER THE PACIFIC 1831 LOCAL TIME[/b] Interacting with: [@Sterling][@DFTBA][@dragonmancer][@RumikoOhara] "I really cannot thank you enough, Superintendent," Gant d'Argent said into the phone, gratitude plain in his voice. The engines of the plane hummed quietly in the background. "It is truly humbling that there are still people like yourself who believe in our mission. Thank you again for the information. Yes, goodbye. My regards to your wife and children." The Frenchman hung up, sighed theatrically. "Ten gets you one that he's calling Jack right now to share the same information." He looked over the plane. It was less luxurious and more spartan than that used by the Cochran family, but most importantly it had always got them where they were going. Gant d'Argent felt a brief pang of sadness as he looked over the many empty seats. There was the scratch The Hare had accidentally torn in the upholstery. Gant d'Argent remembered Okyeame playfully teasing him over it. They were both gone now, dead and gone and buried, never to return. So many memories of times gone by. He forced the thoughts out of his head. There was work to be done. "Alright, team, here's the situation," he said to the group at large. He patched in the satellite-boosted comms so that Launcelot, wherever he was on this planet, could also hear the briefing. A brilliant invention. Wilbur's, to be exact. Pity. They would need his mind going forwards. "I just got off the phone with our contact in the Australian Federal Police. He has been gracious enough to share a lead with us, though I imagine he will be give the same information to Jack and his people. It seems that a few of Tinhead Ned's old subordinates have come forward and claim one of his caches is located in Andamooka, a little nothing town in the middle of the Outback. It's the closest to Melbourne, where he escaped, so it stands to reason he might try to head there." The Frenchman shrugged. "However, it seems that a situation is also unfolding in Perth, on the other side of the country. It. . . well, just look," he said, indicating one of the television screens in the cabin to show the skull-headed creature soaking up police bullets and then hurling aside dozens of officers with one blow. "Now, I think we can deal with either crisis, but we must decide quickly so that the pilot and our knightly friend have time to plot a new course." "Personally, I vote we stay with our original mission. On to Andamooka and Tinhead Ned. How do all of you feel?" He looked over the cabin, interested to see which way opinion would swing. [b]OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER CHIYODA WARD, TOKYO, JAPAN[/b] Interacting with: [@BlackSam3091] Everything about the trip had been rushed. From Ogata's hurried escort to the lobby to the fast drive to the airport to the SDF plane that had whisked Odysseus to Tokyo, all of it had been done with speed and efficiency. Less than three hours later, the King of Ithaka was being shown into the smart, modernist offices that housed the Prime Minister. The numerous armed guards had scowled at the sword, but certain exceptions could be made for royalty. There had been hardly wait at all outside the meeting room, either, hardly long enough for Ogata to offer tea, before the doors opened and a staffer beckoned Odysseus in. Walking through the double doors, Odysseus was greeted by nineteen ministers of state and the Prime Minister himself, seated at the head of a long and elegant mahogany table. A long window took up one wall, letting in the early evening sky and a beautiful view of the Diet Building. All stood and bowed softly in deference. "Your Highness," the Prime Minister said. "Thank you for accepting our invitation on such short notice. I trust your journey here was comfortable. Please, be seated." As the Cabinet took their seats, the Prime Minister motioned for refreshments to be brought. So far, the atmosphere was relaxed. "Does Your Highness have a prepared statement?" the Prime Minister asked politely. [b] NAGOYA MARRIOTT NAKAMURA WARD, NAGOYA, JAPAN[/b] Interacting with: [@Renny] "God Fist," the pleasant voice said in the darkness, as the man stepped out of the shadows. There was no indication of him entering the room- the door and windows remained shut. It was as though he had always been there but only now made himself known. "Please, don't be frightened," he said. He was a thin man, but muscled and graceful, something like a greyhound. He was dressed in a dark but fashionable suit, and expensive designer sunglasses covered his eyes despite the darkness. His skin was almost luminescent in its paleness, and his styled hair an eye-catching coppery red. "My name is Reynard. I apologize for startling you," he said gently, with great care and a concilatory gesture that revealed the length and curvature of his fingernails. "I understand what you are feeling. The guilt, the grief, the responsibility. It is good that you feel those things. It means that you are a good person at heart, one who feels the weight of his mistakes, one who wishes to do the right thing. The world may not understand, God Fist, but I do. And so does my employer." Reynard smiled, and for a brief second God Fist could see the sharp points of his teeth. "Would it be wrong to say you need a friend right now? Someone who understands? My employer can be that friend. And she can show the world who you truly are- a good person who looks out for the rest of us." Reynard extended a small card to the young man, and the white cardstock seemed to glow in the darkened room. "Visit my employer at your leisure. I understand you fly quite quickly- getting there would be no difficulty at all for you. Or, of course, you could always ride with me," Reynard said with another gentle, affectionate smile. He stood and waited patiently as God Fist deliberated. The card read: [center] Lilith Hobs CEO, Milton Aeronautics Suite 4400, Rimbaud Tower Omaha, NE [/center] with contact information below. Reynard looked down at the young man with a faraway smile, awaiting a response.