Alpha

Maxson and Shelby are out trying to enjoy some shopping. Recent missions had seen the two in the Middle East, Siberia and a secret military base on the dark side of the moon. Now they just wanted to relax and enjoy a little of what they bust their butts to protect.

“That one's hot", Mac said approvingly to Shelby as she modeled one of the season's new bathing suits.

“It might look good, but this floss is a pain in the ass.” she replied trying to adjust the bottom of the neon two piece suit.

“Fine, take it off."

“You wish.” she shot back ducking into the changing room.

“I like that one and the patriotic one. I'll be back in a sec. I want to check on somethin'.", Mac said as he stood up and left the communal waiting room that was ringed by different changing booths.

Mac was desperately in love with Shelby and always focused all his available attention on her. His Centre training taught him to access his subconscious in order to be aware of his surroundings. His subconscious is what prompted him to check out the main floor. Slowly parting the beads Slipstream entered the boutique proper. A mental switch and his mutant engine was slowly powering up.


Thousands of miles away Slipstreams' powering up is noticed by several human monitors aboard the Centre satellite.

“Colonel Bragmore, Slipstreams' powered up.", one of the monitors spoke into an intercom attached to his headset.

“Roger that, on my way", the Colonel replied as he placed a bookmark in his book and tossed it onto his bed.

As the presence of super powered beings in our world became more and more a reality the US "power's that be", settled on two things. The first was that in order to keep up it was necessary to catalogue all those beings within it's auspices that possessed metanatural abilities and select some to work for the good guys. The other was the need to establish an organization to control those catalogued. The Centre was that organization.


Looking around with both his eye's and his subconscious Slipstream couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Feeling around one more time he went back into the dressing room area, but not before he upped his stored energy a couple levels.

Slipstream knew that the subconscious didn't lie. Pressing a subdural throat mic Slipstream spoke to Timeslide. “Shelby, stay cool, somethin's goin' on."

"What is it?” she asked carefully adjusting her latest outfit.

"Not sure, but my head itches.” he replied referring to the trained subconscious all Alpha agents had.

"What do ya wanna do?"

"Nothin', it's probable just me. Now step out here and lemme see some ass."


"Sir, he's up to five.” the monitor informed the Colonel as he entered the "bubble", nerve center of the Agency satellite.

"Five! Dammit what's he doing?"

"He's with Timeslide, sir"

"Put Blink on hold."

"Blink sir?"

"Do it, soldier!"

"Done sir.” the corporal replied as he entered the code in an alpha-numeric keypad.


Unbeknownst to all but a few in the United States the "cold war" is still going full steam, within our own borders. The activation of agent Blink can only mean "they who must be obeyed" intend to use him. As such several individuals within our country are made aware of this intent. One of them is the current director of the Centre for which Alpha team is answerable to. Blink is a bio-engineered construct that can permanently shut down the mind of humans with met normal abilities. To Rion Brogan this meant that someone was about to get eyebrow deep in some serious shit.

"O'Donnell, gimme a roll call.” Brogan asked as he slid into the seat next to Janet van Deem, the communications officer on duty. “Wait a minute, where’s O'Donnell? Deem, I thought you were third shift?"

"It's van Deem. I transferred up.", she replied as the monitor board showed all agents accounted for except two.

"Where are Shelby and Maxson?"

"Seventy-two hour leave, sir.” she replied activating the tracer that all agents had implanted into their spines.

" Locate..."

" Got 'em sir."

"Send Cory to run cover."

"She's a Sigma sir."

"I know. She's due for a raise. Dispatch and feed her the info in route."

"Yes sir."


Shelby continued trying on various swimsuits as Maxson, with a critical eye, critiqued each and gave his opinion. The itch in his head ever present but no more insistent then his original impression.

Outside the dressing rooms business in the boutique was at its daily height. Casually Cory made her way around the shop, watching for the clerks, any apparent hostiles, Timeslide and Slipstream, and the ever present telepathic recorders. Not necessarily in that order. Cory thought it weird that the Centre seemed to always have their recorders in place for every mission. The recorder's job was to maintain a telepathic link between the agents and observers at the Centre. Thereby nullifying the need for any immediate communication between the two. Despite her efforts Cory didn't notice two newer arrivee's, both of whom will quickly change this boutique's "normal" business.

"Can we go?", asked Maxson seeing Shelby emerge from her overused changing booth.

"Yeah. I got a couple.", she replied indicating her preferences by throwing those chosen across the small waiting area into Maxson's face.

"Good, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Attempting to lead Shelby to the register Maxson didn't notice the slight waver behind the counter ahead of him, but the clean cut, athletic gentleman browsing near the front of the store did catch his attention.

"Here, you pay.", Maxson said handing Shelby his wallet.

The itching in his head had increase a bit when he noticed the gentleman in the "woman's" boutique, alone. As Shelby paid for her stuff Maxson continued to probe the immediate surroundings with his subconscious. It was then he felt a stirring behind the counter, too close for comfort.

Drawing on his power Maxson was about to adjust the "reality" of whatever was there when a rapid succession of things occurred. Just seconds before ,Cory had also noticed the athletic gentleman, out of place in the shop and approached him believing him to be someone she knew as well. Closing to the appropriate distance she reached out to touch him on the shoulder. When she did so it startled him slightly lessening his concentration. This in tern altered the region of Maxson's brain that Blink "turned off", causing Maxson to collapse rather then fall into a catatonic state. At that precise moment Maxson, using his hand to direct the release of the "order energy" that was his to command, attempted to resolve the itch in his head. Shelby vanished and Maxson hit the floor unconscious.

The instant Shelby disappeared the Centre's telepathic recorder, Algae, initiated the sterilization protocols that comprised the secondary parameters of its programming. Everyone in the boutique was mind wiped of the preceding two minutes and immediately desired only to go home and sleep. Algae also called in a Centre first line team, whose job it was to isolate and sterilize the area effectively hiding from the general public the fact that super beings did exist and operated among everyday people.


"What the hell happened?", Brogan asked occupying the terminal next to Van Deem.

"I'm not sure sir. Everyone is accounted for except one. That one is only on tape half the time."

"Half the time?"

"Here, see if you recognize the signature", Van Deem replied calling up the telepathic recording Algae made of the incident

As the tape advanced all the images were moving normally except one. The image from behind the counter seemed to skip frames, almost as if it were blinking in and out of the picture.

"That one's using some type of temporal cloaking device. Half the time they are now and the other half a couple seconds in the past or future. It makes the user invisible and able to instantaneously teleport elsewhere. The technology I recognize the user I don't.