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"To the best of my knowledge it is the only problem that needs immediate attention as far as I know. Now kindly be silent." Now kindly be silent? Ana's eyes narrowed. Nothing said "Shut up, Woman," quite like "Now kindly be silent." The arrogant fool was looking down on her. Of course, it wasn't that she expected anything different from the men of 1791, but to be put down like that mere seconds after getting a refreshing bit of respect from Sir Thomas Leyton was almost unbearable. There would be no getting around it. Ana Douglas made an instant decision that she did not like Captain Velic, and it would take a lot of effort to change her mind. "Then the best of your knowledge is not good enough," she told him icily. And before he could reply, Leyton began his little tale of Gerart van Sweiten and the Empress of Austria. During this bit, Ana leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. At the suggestion of bite marks, she rolled her eyes, entirely unimpressed. Then, from the 'Captain', "What do you suggest we do then?" Ana almost laughed out loud. Almost. Instead, she rolled her eyes yet again. What a soldier! To hear 'bite marks' and think 'FIGHT'. But she was done insulting him for now. She'd let Leyton reprimand him this time. Surely Leyton had more explanation than 'bite marks' to offer or he'd not have brought them all together here.

"I apologise if I have caused you offence in any way, but it was necessary to bring you here." Ana was now convinced her initial impression of this meeting was incorrect and she settled down. Instead of boiling inside from anger, she was now quite curious. Lord Grenville had always been one of her strongest supporters. While some of the men who knew of her sought to keep her locked away, Lord Grenville had been the most vocal in supporting what he called her "right to a normal life." Not that anything about her life was normal, but that was hardly the point. "I have misjudged you, Sir Thomas," she said, taking a seat to his right. "Forgive me." And when he asked everyone to be seated, she went on, "So tell us, why have you called for our presence here?" There was a faint glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she knew damned well why they were there. It was very nearly all Leyton could think about, and she was a telepath after all. But still, it was impolite to spill the news if you weren't the one doing the inviting, and so Ana asked politely, allowing Leyton his time in the spotlight. But someone else spoke first, admitting his own guilt in bringing the cause of the 'Blood Plague' to London. Ana scowled at him. "You speak as though the 'Blood Plague' is London's only supernatural problem," she said. "And you put words in Sir Thomas' mouth. Perhaps we ought to let him speak, yes?"

Ana stalked into the King's Theatre, much like a predator stalking its prey. She had opted to wear a dress, deciding that wearing men's clothes to a meeting such as this would surely get her started on the wrong foot. Nevertheless, the dress she had chosen left her legs free range of movement and her sais were strapped to her back. And if anyone dared second guess her skill with her sais, she always had her telepathy and telekinesis as tools to make the men take her seriously. Because of her telepathy, Ana could sense the gathering minds in the cellar. She used this sense as a beacon to lead her to the stairs. She descended lightly and entered the cellar, glancing briefly at each man there. Her eyes found Thomas Leyton last and she spent a good seven seconds staring at him before she spoke. "T. L." she said bluntly. It wasn't a question; she knew he was the one who had organized this little meeting. She stalked forward until she was standing directly in front of him. "I hardly think it needs saying that your request for my presence here is a little suspicious." She bent over to stare directly into his eyes, her own brown eyes flashing with a trace of anger. Then, there was a flicker of surprise as she seemed to find something in his eyes that she did not expect. She said, "There are few who truly know of me. How did you come to be one of them?"

Anahera Douglas crumpled the note in disgust. Really? Did they honestly think she was that gullible to think that someone genuinely wanted her help? This was 1791, after all. Women were expected to stay home, do the housework, raise the boys until their fathers could shape them, and shape the girls into prim and proper women. That wasn't to say Ana wouldn't go. In fact, she was certainly planning to do so. But she was going to prove people wrong. She smiled faintly as she considered shedding her dresses in favor of something that would cause an outrage among the men gathering. Pants. "Who wears the pants now?" she asked the empty bookstore with a laugh. At the very least, this midnight meeting would provide her some entertainment.

Think I'll drop in here too... Name: Anahera "Ana" Douglas Appearance: Image: Ana Douglas. Ana's age is unknown. By appearance, she seems to be roughly twenty-four, but she cannot remember anything before fourteen years ago. She has a faint white scar on her forehead and if not for her hair, you could see several other scars all along her scalp. Equipment: Two sais Bio: This young woman was found unconscious at roughly age ten. Her hair had been shaved completely off and many jagged scars were visible on her scalp and all across the rest of her body as well. A kind doctor took her in and tended to her injuries. When she finally woke up, she could remember absolutely nothing of her past. Fearing she was part of some government experiment, the doctor urged her to come up with a name. Instantly, she replied, "Anahera Douglas," and her instant response prompted the doctor to wonder if perhaps that was her real name. Ana Douglas lived with the doctor for three years and her hair grew back. At this time, it was discovered that she could read minds and a secret government organization took her away. They used her to interrogate high-level prisoners, a job that she proved quite adept at. She worked in this job for five years. Then, at roughly eighteen years of age, she was recruited by another agency to do a similar job. For two years, several government agencies fought to buy her services and while they were squabbling, she discovered that her mental abilities were not limited to reading minds. She could change peoples' minds as well, and she learned to move objects with her mind as well. When the government learned of these traits, they fought harder to purchase her services and keep her existence a secret. At roughly age twenty-four, Anahera Douglas is the British government's best kept secret. She now lives alone in a small apartment close to the center of London and she has a cover identity. Only a small handful of people know who Ana Douglas truly is; everyone else thinks she maintains a small bookstore for her dying father.

"Damn," Alisa said softly, pushing herself out from beneath the primary navigation console. Wasn't this supposed to be an easy mission? It was just supposed to be simple little problems, especially for Alisa. She was a pilot, not a mortician. Why the hell was she supposed to be taking care of bodies? She shuddered uncomfortably. Whatever. She'd do whatever she was told to. She wasn't in charge, after all. But first... "Barry, where are Mr. Rodriguez and Dr. Revel?" she asked the AI.

Rolling her eyes at how Ben's comment was basically ignored, Alisa stood, grabbing her bagel and coffee. "I think I'm going to have to take this up to the bridge." She eyed the other members of the team. "Somehow I think I'll be in better company up there..." "I may point out, Ms. Bell," said Barry, "that the only companionship you'll find on the bridge is my voice and the pilot robots." Alisa grinned. "I'm well aware of that, Barry. Thank you." With that, she departed, coffee and bagel in hand.

Alisa smiled faintly at Ben's explanation of Barry's behavior. "Plus," she said, "We're not scheduled to be awake long here, are we? So he's gotta get as much amusement out of us as he can before we go back to sleep." She shrugged. "At any rate, I like him. He's good for a laugh, and I don't much mind it happens to be at my expense." She moved to find something to eat and came back to the table with a bagel and cream cheese, and a mug that was three-quarters coffee and one-quarter french vanilla creamer. Sighing contentedly, she said, "Pre-packed no-spoil foods. Gotta love 'em."

Alisa vaguely heard Barry's informational announcements, but he was already finished speaking by the time anything he'd said registered in her mind. She frowned at the air as she left her cryogenic unit. "How in space do you lose two days by forgetting a time change of an hour?" she asked aloud. "I might turn that question around on you," Barry replied. "How can you sleep for over fifty years and still feel like you went to bed yesterday? Then again, I am fully aware of the state in which the human body rests whilst in cryogenic stasis, so I rather expect I have a better answer to that question than you do. To your breakfast, Ms. Bell!" Smiling, Alisa decided she rather liked Barry. With that in mind, she headed for the kitchen.

I'll be whatever I want, thanks very much Well if you got the name from a specific book/comic/whatever, why did you direct me to Erinyes on Wikipedia? Why not direct me to the book? (BTW, now it's this... Sandman I'm bugged with more than you. They're the ones who split up the name, gave it to a guy, and made it weird.) Hey you! Shut up

Point 1: Why don't YOU go read that? It says they were female. Point 2: You seriously just split up a name that means "the angry ones" for your character? Point 3: I don't care if you decide not to change it; it's still gonna bug the hell out of me

Uh... just so you know, if it's a man, the name is generally spelled 'Aaron'. 'Erin' is the female spelling.

Didn't put an age option, Steven? How very... inconvenient Also, I notice you were not intending to create a character... you really ought to, you know. It'd be more fun that way Name: Alisa Bell Age: 31 Appearance: Image: Alisa Bell Nationality: British Background: One would think that if born to a wealthy family, one would follow one's parents into the family business. For example, an heir to a billion-dollar fashion line would undoubtedly go to work in the fashion industry, right? Well, perhaps with any other family. But the Bell family was no ordinary family, and so Alisa Bell was encouraged to do whatever the hell she wanted to. And she became a skilled pilot with just a dash of engineering knowledge to round it out. Alisa was placed on the crew of the Hastings because of her knowledge of piloting a ship and of the mechanics behind doing so properly. She can repair any problems of a navigational bent and all the circuitry and wiring of the ship's piloting systems if need be.

Rellis didn't even blink when Gastus pulled out his lightsaber and switched both blades on. Instead, she stared at him, smiling serenely as he basically insulted the woman who trained her. Then Rosha Te interrupted and said his piece, after which Gastus relented. After he commented on his sister's apparent trust of Rellis, the Sith Hunter laughed. "Trust?" she said. "Oh, yes let's call it that. The first two times Alena and I encountered one another, she tried her very hardest to escape me, though both her boss and mine insisted I was there to aid her. The third time, I saved her life and earned her reluctant respect." She grinned. "You are more like Alena than you'd like to think, Gastus." -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- "Door locks released," the computer said. "Specify next system to restore." "Restore propulsion," Alena ordered. "I've taken care of navigation manually." The computer estimated propulsion systems would be restored in six minutes, to which Alena growled softly. Gastus would be in for it when she finally finished restoring all her ship's systems...

At Syera's suggestion, Darach frowned. The heir of a multi-trillion credit hotel and resort operation, he was not likely to be believed if he claimed to be a freelance technician. He supposed that, if he was recognized, he could simply answer, "I'm not, but I get that a lot." But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. No one would believe that either. "I'm a very recognizable face," he said softly. "No one's gonna believe that about me. If anyone asks, you all can be technicians, but you work for me."

"Cute tricks," Rellis said, far from intimidated by Gastus and his tricks. "The lights and the gravity I mean. Though how you managed to get past Alena's security systems is a feat quite deserving of respect." She tilted her head slightly forward and to the right, a gesture used amongst the Sith Hunters as an acknowledgment of their respect for someone. "My name is Rellis Thren," she said. "I have been sent by Hunter Leader Vailar to assist you on your..." She paused to smirk at Rosha as she borrowed his phrase, "... quest of legendary proportions." -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- "Welcome, Alena Batel," the AI said as Alena drifted into the room which contained the main computer core. "Warning. Systems have been sabotaged. All security functions offline." "That's alright," Alena said. "Leave them off. I don't want anyone aboard cut into pieces. I don't even hate Gastus that much. Let's work on other ship's systems. What did Gastus tamper with? Aside from artificial gravity, that is..." "Navigation, propulsion, lighting, and refresher systems are all set for manual control from the bridge," the AI replied. "All doors are sealed." "Hence me being forced to pry my way in here," Alena said, remembering just a few seconds ago when she had narrowly avoided a numbing agent Gastus had set up to spray outward from the door when she tried to force it. "Concentrate on gravity. I hate floating." "All efforts concentrated on artificial gravity system," the AI responded. "Gravity should be restored in ten seconds... five, four, three, two, one. Artificial gravity system coming back online." With a sigh of relief, Alena felt the gravity system tug her gently back to the floor. With that system restarted, she crossed the room to the computer console and entered the sequence in which she wanted the systems restored. Next were the doors and Gastus had made sure the scrambling was much more complex on them; the computer estimated restoration of the locking mechanisms in three minutes.

Thought I'd keep you all updated on what's been happening, as it's meant I've been unable to post. Point 1: I got a job, which significantly cuts down on my free time. Point 2: I have my final portfolio for a fiction writing class that's due tomorrow night and am frantically scrambling to finish it. I'll be able to post by Tuesday. Thank you, Tysyacha and Steven for your understanding. As for you, Keno... you can shut up because I'm almost positive you'll attempt a meathook threatening or some such nonsense

"Indeed," Alena agreed, "idle chat will do us little good. Come along, then." She turned and entered the shuttle. Rellis hung back, gesturing for the Togruta Jedi to enter ahead of her. "After you," she said politely. In reality, though her true motive for entering the shuttle last had been concealed extremely well, her reason was not simply to be polite and respectful; the Sith Hunters were trained never to turn their backs on anyone, not even a confirmed ally. Of course, there were circumstances in which it was acceptable, but entering an unfamiliar environment was not one of them. In fact, she found it rather unusual that Alena had not remained outside the shuttle until both her passengers had entered; of all the occupations that promoted paranoid tendencies, assassinations and spy work were the worst. In the end, all three made it aboard the shuttle and Alena flew it out of the atmosphere and came along underneath her ship. After a few moments of observation, she swore under her breath. "My prick of a brother seems to have done a slight bit of sabotage," she said. "The power readings are off. I rather expect he'll be waiting on the bridge. Rellis, if you'd meet him there, that'd be fun. Rosha, since you technically came to see Gastus, you may as well go with her. I've got business to take care of." With that, she docked the shuttle with the larger ship and they all soon discovered that artificial gravity had been taken offline. Muttering a string of curses, floated out of the shuttle and on her way. When she was gone, Rellis turned to the former Jedi. "Well then, Rosha Te," Rellis said, grinning slightly as she revealed that she did in fact know who he was, though Alena clearly had not. "Shall we go confront a Dantes?"

Darach shook his head slowly. "I don't trust crowded places, Four," he said. "You know that." He sighed. "I understand that you're only asking because you want to be sure we all have our parts solid, but there's a time and a place and this is not it."

Darach Bakar's lips were pursed in silent contemplation. On the one hand, there was probably a bit of insanity required in the accusations they were intending to level against Palpatine. Perhaps, they all had death wishes. But Syera was right. They'd done a lot of investigating these charges before this point. "Whether we're right or not," he finally said, "we're undoubtedly crazy. But really, that's what worries me. In studying history, I've noticed that the people who appeared the most out of their minds in their time were the ones who actually had something right. I hope we're wrong... but something tells me we're not."