"Red Five to Rebel Base. Do you copy, Rebel Base? Over."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Vivid. I've told you a hundred times: I'm not going to respond to that ridiculous call code. You're to use my codename, or my given name if you are completely incapable of constraining yourself to sensible operating procedure. Do I make myself clear?"

Sable's wicked chuckle crackled out from the speakers on the desk, echoing in the spacious room. "Ooh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the century. Come on! You were actually alive when that movie first came out— embrace your role as Ackbar and move on. We've got a Death Star to infiltrate."

To Miguel's chagrin, the other Sentries in the room echoed her amusement with equivalent gusto, each in their own particular way— Blindspot's lips quirked upwards in the briefest of smirks, Via threw back her head and laughed aloud, and Nightfall and Jackpot exchanged smirks. Even Ocarina chuckled quietly, her rich voice carrying forth from the speakers to resound in the room with uncanny clarity.

Cherry Bomb tilted her head to one side, sending scarlet hair cascading to one side. "You know," she ventured. "If you had allowed me to head this mission, you wouldn't need to put up with this sort of behavior. I would be more than happy to comply with the call codes. And you said that I could lead one more than a month ago."

He had been wondering when she would bring this issue up again. Marshaling his annoyance into something a decidedly unamused expression, he fixed her with a well-refined quelling stare. "Miss Sato, I am aware that you are remarkably talented for your age. However, for all of Vivid's...quirks, I will point out that she is a highly experienced operative who can quite literally smell danger from a mile away. In which way besides courtesy are you more qualified than she to lead a mission focusing on infiltration and stealth? Have we developed such a surplus of fire-breathing, redheaded, knife-wielding Japanese teenagers that one could easily be overlooked in the middle of a pharmaceutical company?"

Cherry Bomb's expression didn't change in the slightest. Miguel had spent enough time around her that her annoyance was clear nonetheless.

Vivid's voice rang out cheerfully over the speakers. "Aw, don't get so bent out of shape, Cherry. We all have our specialties. I infiltrate, act, sneak, detect, and otherwise run rings around SWAT teams. You set shit on fire. The important thing is to find your niche and embrace it— on your left, Red Two. Rebel Base, we have line of sight on the meridian trench. We're going in."

Miguel blinked at the speakers for a moment before giving Via an inquiring look. She gazed back at him innocently for a moment before relenting. "She means they've found Azazel's target, their way in. Probably some doctor who looks like they won't notice a missing ID. They're moving to intercept."

The speakers began to crackle as Vivid began her opening routine— a flurry of energetic greetings designed to captivate the attention and fluster the unprepared with the prodigious force of her attention. After a moment, Azazel's voice joined the conversation, the unassuming tones entirely innocuous and forgettable behind Vivid's bright chatter. The other Sentries went quiet out of reflex— they were well aware of their teammate's skill, but it was both rude and unwise to provide a background distraction while she went to work.

Miguel allowed himself the tiniest sliver of satisfaction. Things were well under way now— he could trust himself to relax just a bit. With all the voices flying about, he could afford to hear a few from within.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a count of seven. The tension slid from his shoulders and stance, and he welcomed the relief as the energy he had devoted to maintaining the shields around his mind became his once again. The second breath tasted sweeter than the first, and he felt warmth spread from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. His eyes fluttered closed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth despite his best efforts.

As he reveled in the sensation of relaxation, two presences within him began to stir.

Well, well, well. Looks like someone's finally decided to let us out of our rooms. About damn time, too. I was almost ready to talk to the malak, just to break up the boredom. Almost.

Miguel opened his eyes, letting them rove unfocused across the far wall. Good morning, Tifanos. Sorry about the delay— you and Zachariel were getting too loud for me to focus, and this mission was too big for me to afford a distraction.

He blinked as Tifanos sent a flicker of wordless sentiment that could only be described as a displeased sniff. Ah yes. The thrilling heroics. It would be such a shame if something got in the way of that. I don't suppose we'll be able to do anything interesting? It's been ages since you got off your lazy ass and actually did some fieldwork— I swear, you're giving all the fun jobs to the brats on purpose.

I'm afraid this particular operation's being left to Sable and Asher. Some biotech company's under suspicion of developing biological weapons— 'AsKlep Incorporated', according to Sable. The law doesn't have enough evidence to justify a warrant and full investigation, particularly with the allegedly formidable array of lawyers the company keeps on retainer. However, if some good Samaritan just happened to leave deeply incriminating files from the heart of the company in question at the police station...well. That would be more than enough reason to bring a criminal case against them, wouldn't you think?

I really couldn't say. I'm still working on the idea that you need a reason to break, enter, and destroy. Especially if they're trying to make weapons that will kill the things you like. This is one of those human things, isn't it?

Miguel grinned. You could say that. I'm surprised Zachariel hasn't chimed in yet.

Tifanos sent something that felt distinctly like a snort. The malak's busy sulking. Because unlike your misbegotten species, malakhim make sense.

"Red Five to Rebel Base, the meridian trench has been breached!" Vivid sang out from the speakers. "Red Three, it's looking like you won't be needed after all— My delightful partner performed perfectly, and he's doing a stunning impression of one Doctor Jonathan Murphy. How're you feeling, Red Two?"

Miguel's focus snapped back to the mission with a disorienting jolt. A gruff, unfamiliar voice sounded over the speakers. "Azazel to Blacklight— don't glare at me like that, Vivid! I never told you I was going to use that codename. I'm really more of a Star Trek fan, anyways. I've successfully assumed the shape of one of the doctors in AsKlep. Vivid swiped his ID card, so I should have full access to the building. We're proceeding to Phase Two. Over."

"Red Five to Rebel Base!" Vivid responded with indignation. "Am I allowed to kill my partner for heresy? I'm like sixty percent sure I can finish the mission without him. Sixty-five if Red Three provides a distraction."

"Play nice, you two," Miguel warned. "Ocarina, hold your position unless things go sour. Have you two gotten into restricted area of the building?"

"We're in, but there's no shortage of people around," Azazel answered. "Vivid, where did your contact say we should look for evidence?"

There was a long, pregnant pause.

Oh my. Does that mean what I think it means?

"Okay," Vivid said with a note of chagrin. "So I couldn't get an actual floor number or room from him. But he was very sure that this thing AsKlep is working on is really dangerous. So I should be able to sense it when we get close—"

"Viv— Sable. Are you telling me you don't actually know where in this twenty-five story building the evidence is?"

"Um. That's correct."

The entire room groaned as one, even as Azazel swore vehemently. Blindspot pursed his lips and gave the speaker a mildly disapproving look. Jackpot ran a hand through his hair, while Via and Nightfall traded a knowing look. Ocarina said nothing, but her irritation was palpable even through the comm link.

Miguel's eye twitched. To his right, Cherry Bomb raised a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"I apologize for my earlier rudeness, Blacklight. You were quite right to keep me from heading this mission, and I overstepped my boundaries. Vivid's many qualifications, particularly in the fields of infiltration and spying, are now abundantly clear to me. I hope you can find it within yourself to excuse my indiscretion."

"Thank you, Cherry. Passive-aggressive commentary is exactly what this situation needed."

Okay. That went down like a lead balloon. Can we go charging in and destroy everything now? We can even rescue the idiots from the results of their own terrible judgments! It'll be fun!

I said no, Tif! Frustration was beginning to cloud his reason, and Miguel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay. I'm ending this mission immediately. Both of you get out of there before you get caught, and rendezvous with Ocarina before getting back to base. Once everyone's back, I think we need to have a long, thorough talk about what exactly we mean when we say 'Miguel, I can totally get the incriminating intelligence out from that pharmaceutical company! Just okay the mission!' Are we clear?"

"Miguel, wait. If you give me time, I should be able to cover enough ground that any dangerous materials will—"

His temper strained. "Sable. That wasn't a request. This was supposed to be a surgical strike—in, get the info, out before anyone notices something is wrong. The longer this takes, the more likely it becomes that someone will notice that there are two Doctor Murphys running around the building. We'll have to figure out some other way to get the information we need, and frankly I'm surprised that you took a mission without preparing yourself proper—"

"Blacklight. Hold on a second." He paused mid-rant at the sound of Azazel's voice. "She's sniffing the air and smiling. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Smoke!" Vivid exclaimed. "Hah! I told you I could find it if Azazel got me inside, and now I smell danger, which is exactly what I said I could do before we ran out of time. It's pretty close, too— I'm guessing it's only a few floors away, and I can track it to the source in a matter of minutes. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Rebel Base. I'm off to do some thrilling spy work. Red Five out."

The room erupted into a chorus of contradictory comments and arguments. Miguel found himself grinding his teeth, and then shouting just to be heard above the din. "Vivid, I don't remember taking back my order. You're gong in blind on shaky evidence, and dragging your partner with you. Get out of there! We can go back in once we get a better idea of what's going on."

He could practically hear Vivid rolling her eyes on the other end of the comm. "As touching and not at all patronizing as I find your concern for my well-being, I'd like to point out that venturing into peril to beat the bad guys is what I do. It's going to take more than a couple of corporate rent-a-cops to put me in any real danger. Besides. This is going exactly according to plan. Get in, get the info, get out."

An elevator's distinctive ping! sounded from the speakers. Miguel's foot began to tap on the concrete floor of the room. The other heroes quieted down in a matter of moments. Five pairs of eyes fixed themselves on him. He closed his eyes, weighing the dangers against the potential benefits in a manner that had become distressingly familiar in the past few decades.

Just so you know, the 'break into the building, destroy everything, and rescue your stupid subordinates' option is still on the table. No pressure. Just thought you should know. In case you find yourself getting tired of sitting on the sidelines.

He spent several seconds longer than was probably wise considering that option before biting out: "Fine. If you get yourself killed, I am going to say very uncomplimentary things at your funeral."

"I'll expect you to compare my father to a howler monkey at the very least," Vivid chirped. "Until then, come on, Red Two! We've got work to do."

He let out a long breath.

The phone on the far wall rang, the jangling noise jarring against his senses. It took him a moment to reorient long enough to find where it was and stomp over. Yanking it from its place with only a cursory glance at the number, he forced a modicum of calm into his voice. "Lieutenant Ramirez. This is Blacklight. As nice as it is to hear from you and everyone at the precinct, I don't think this is the best time for me to help you—"

He stopped as the rapid fire response overwhelmed his dismissal. Nearly against his own will, he found himself listening.

Two minutes after the lieutenant ended the call, he managed to hang up the phone with nerveless fingers.