Savage Jackson/Stand Up Eight

From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

Stand up Eight.

Jackson remembered white lights, fussing doctors and the hum of Rikti technology. He came to at Titan headquarters, suddenly sitting up on his bed and glancing around. He was in thier medical ward, overseen by the Hyperion medical computers. "The patient is now awake." it chimed. "No fucking shit." he replied, unplugged the monitors and hopped off the bed. His chest was bare, but no visible sign of the wounds inflicted in the battle. "Miracles of modern technology" he thought to himself. He checked the rest of his injuries, seeing nothing permanent. A pair of pants and a new shirt sat on the counter beside, which he donned. Jackson brushed back his hair, sighed and headed to the main work area.

The hallway was deserted, the windowless building offering Jackson no idea what time of day it was. He continued until he reached the office, dismayed to find it full. Leo Masterson was standing by the coffee machine in his motorcycle leathers, chatting to Rogue CAGE. Rendered sat at a computer desk, casually typing away while clearly trying not to look bored. Others milled about, filing paper work and checking out new contracts. The room came to a stand still when Jackson headed for his desk. Jackson felt all eyes on him, but evaded thier gaze and sat at his desk. He signed into the system and checked his contract's status. FAILED mocked him, glowing in bright red letters. He already knew that, but seeing the reminder just added salt to his wounds. He put his head in his hands, the anger building inside him.

"So... ugh... you doing ok?" asked Leo, precariously perched over the cubicle's peak. "No, Leo. No I'm not. When's the last time you failed a contract?" Jackson responded, not matching his look. Leo was built like a brick house, a mutant boasting super strength and amazing resilience to taking damage. He hadn't failed a contract since joining the company. Jackson knew that, but was pissed and didn't care anymore.

"I meant... you know, physically. You took quite the beating... they had to work on you for days-" Leo clearly didn't get why Savage was pissed. None of them probably did. He was a normal in an office full of freaks. These people, thier god damn powers given to them for whatever reasons. Compared to theirs, Ki Manipulation was a parlor trick. Compared to them, Jackson was an insignificant.

Jackson slammed his fist unto the desk and stood suddenly, raising his voice. "No, Leo. You don't fucking get it, do you? Doesn't matter if I'm ok or not, god damn alien technology can bring me back again and again. Doesn't matter if I get my ass kicked week after week, because I can always be brought back. What DOES matter is fucking contracts. FUCKING contracts, Leo. Failing these fucking contracts. What's the god damn point of working here if I can't do a single god damn job by myself!"

Leo backed away slowly, holding his palms out front in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Hey man... if you need teams, I can do that. You can always count on me-" "No, Leo!" Jackson cut him off, "You still don't fucking get it! You don't need a team, ever, do you? Do you? Mister Fucking Muscles can just walk wherever he wants and parade through a hail of gunfire, coming out unscathed. Not me, you fucking moron." He slammed his fists into the desk again, his frustration quickly overcoming his self control.

Rendered rolled her eyes and lowered her gaze to her manicure. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. "Now, now, girls., You're both pretty. No need to get all huffy, Jackie. Plenty of people parade around the Isles without so much a magic charm bracelet. It's not exactly like you're helpless. You can shoot straight, correct?"

"God damn it! You guys don't get it! It wasn't a meta-human that did this to me this time, but a fucking gunslinger like me! A powerless fucking gunslinger!" Jackson's slams his fists into the table once more, however this time it felt different. A surge of strength suddenly kicked in, as if stealing energy from the terminal and adding it to his own. His fists contacted the desk... it was like a small bomb went off.

Shards of wood, plastic and electronic circuitry flew out in all directions. Rendered expertly dodged behind the cubicle wall and quickly retreated from the room, Leo raised his hands over his face. The shrapnel bounced off his fore arms and face. The rest of the office was similar, no one hurt but pieces of Jackson's desk and computer everywhere. He looked confused, then quickly checked himself for wounds. Amazingly enough, he was unscathed. He looked around again, his confusion worse than before.

Thomas Peterson, just a room away, heard the commotion and made haste to Jackson's office. As he walked in, Thomas witnessed Savage deflect chunks of broken desk, as if his had a force field of some kind. Unarmored, Antonio Smithson, the ex-PPD officer known as Rogue CAGE had ducked for cover. Pushing a chair over to act as a shield, he recoiled as shards of wood come shooting through the upholstery before his eyes. Sprinting to a new source of cover, he looks up watching as the shrapnel refracts around his sometime teammate. Waiting until the office supplies are no longer projectiles, he stands. "Neat trick...but did you have to blow up the cubicle to test the theory that you could shield yourself from an explosion? We don't all have superpowers ya know...Though, on second thought, I've never seen you do that before either." "Hey, uh, Jackson? You okay man?" Peterson added. He observed the room, and all the damage in front of him. "Cool trick, by the way."

"But.. how?" Jackson sputtered out. His Ki Manipulation had the ability to expand around him, but only affected those he actively targeted. It had never before activated as a sort of self defense field. Why now? Why not during his battle with Jace? His mind was reeling.

"You're asking the wrong guy there partner. I'm just an ex-cop with a nose for machines. Without the CAGE suit, I can't do much more than talk or beat someone with a stick." Smithson slowly approaches, sifting the debris lightly with his feet. "From the looks of things here though, you've got more going for you then you've been showing. Most folks would say that you've been holding out on us." Tony chuckles softly, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Me, I'd say from the fact that you seem as surprised as any of us, that you might be more than just a Spook. Maybe you've got some power of your own eh?" "When I was a boy, I was your average human kid. It took years for my telekineses to develop. It appears, my friend, you are a late bloomer," Thomas added with a soft laugh. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Using Ki Manipulation as a power? I don't even know... know how I would go about that. He looked at his hands again, trying to feel that strength he had felt before. Nothing. "If I can't control it.. what's the use?"

"Mmm," Brooklyn replied and slid her iPhone from her back pocket. She glanced over at Jackson and studied him for a moment, her fingers moving quickly over the phone's touchscreen. "We're often in unexpected situations, Mr. Jackson, as I'm sure you're well aware. This certainly seems to be one of those times, but I know someone who might be able to help you. She's quite skilled in training those who need to compete with metahumans. Terra leads a group called the Ares Syndicate in Paragon City. I've uploaded her contact information to your employee account."

"Training... huh." Jackson scratched his head while staring at the card. "It's been awhile, but couldn't hurt, I guess. What about my responsibilities here?"

Brooklyn waved a hand, keeping her eyes on her phone. "You're of very little use to me if you're going to get killed five minutes into a job. I'll hold your contract for now." She paused and looked up at him, a smile curving her lips up just a bit. "See if Terra can help you...just don't take an extended vacation on my time. I'll expect you back soon as you're ready to stand on your own."

"Guess that settles it." Jackson muttered. He looked at his hands again, trying to imagine what it would be like to have powers comparable to Leo's or the others. To actually be a threat to people with power. That maybe something outside of his guns lay within his reach. He brushed his hair back, unconsciously, and nodded at the others surrounding his once desk. "Sorry for the tantrum, it's just... ya know..." he trailed off. Brooklyn had already left, on the phone with a client. Leo and CAGE still stood there, but both waved theirs hands in dismissal. "Don't say anything else, just hurry back. Despite what you might think, you're pretty handy in a scrap." Leo replied with his trademarked foolhardy grin. CAGE nodded.

It had been days, but thanks to his connections Jackson now stood in front of the address Cale had provided. The Ares Syndicate. A duffel bag over his shoulder, he sighed a heavy breath and headed towards the entrance. The buildings were dated, clearly aged and under maintained. A lone figure stood just inside the entrance, working on a motocycle. He knew her from the information Cale had provided, but meeting a hero -vigilante or otherwise- without the purpose of killing them was something he wasn't quite used to just yet. He went to speak as she looked up. If she knew of him from his work, she didn't show it. Her eyes were cold, so much it even managed to intimidate Jackson. His words caught before he cold form them, but it didn't matter. She nodded towards one building and went back to working on the bike without so much as a second glance. Jackson looked over to said building, and saw another man sitting on the porch's edge smoking a Chinese pipe. Jackson approached him, the man grinning ear to ear.

Jackson was the first to speak. "Hello, my name's Jacob Jackson. Cale sent me... I'm here to train... I guess." "Training, yes. You'll one day find that never ends. Well, we have a much to accomplish and not much time. We'll start with laps." The old man replied, puffing on his pipe. "Sounds easy enough." Jackson smiled.

"I wasn't finished, Jacob." The old man pointed at a tire laying on the ground, a rope attached to it with the free end formed into some sort of harness. "You'll be dragging that. With me in it. Now, shall we?" The old man hobbled off the porch and towards the makeshift training equipment. "It's gonna be a long month." Jackson sighed.

--- End of "Fall Seven Times, Stand up Eight." ---