xp_logs | Log: Forge and Garrison, Thursday morning

Forge finally meets Garrison, and asks some pointed questions about his enhancements and abilities. Garrison gives him the runaround, and the two have a short but less-than-polite discussion.

He hadn't been back in the mansion fifteen minutes before something weird grabbed his attention. And of all things, the new guy - the Canadian. Gary-something. Garrison. Garrison Kane. Forge read the label on the medical file again. While he'd seen Kane briefly at the mission briefing before the Youra mission, he'd not yet had the chance to actually talk to the former Mountie. But seeing him walk around, something seemed to itch at the back of Forge's brain. Something about him was different, a little... off.

The first page of the medical file confirmed what Forge's instincts had told him. Cybernetics, interesting..., he thought. Reading further, it made sense. Garrison's mutation kept him in absolute peak physical condition, thus his body's adaptability and recovery times from enhancement procedures would make him an ideal candidate for experimental surgery. Flipping directly to the specifics, Forge frowned.

Neural stunners, interesting. He'd heard about them being suggested for law enforcement, but actually implanting them in an agent, now that was a new trick. But that didn't explain the weird vibe he was getting off the Canadian. There had to be something else... ah, there it was.

Blinking at the next page, Forge read and re-read the information slowly. That wasn't possible, that technology was very familiar. TOO familiar. In fact...

Replacing the file back in the medical cabinet, Forge handed the keys back to Doctor Voght and stormed out of the infirmary. Practically sprinting for the stairs, he took them as fast as he could, using the handrail to propel himself up to the first floor. Across the hall past the kitchen to the main stairs, up to the second floor, around the curving staircase and up to the staff rooms on the third floor. Left turn from the staircase, next door down...

Instead of knocking on the door, he placed his prosthetic hand against the lock, sending the priority override signal and opening the door wide, stepping in with an accusatory look on his face.

"You", Forge began, "have a chip in your spine that enhances muscle memory and reflex response time. Specifically, it's my chip. I designed it for paraplegic recovery, what in the hell is it doing implanted in some cop from the middle of the goddamn Yukon?"

The spoon paused about an inch from Garrison's mouth. He looked up from his soup and newspaper to look at the man who had just barged into his room, but otherwise hadn't flinched at the sudden diatribe. Kane looked behind himself for a second, just to make sure the guy was talking to him.

"Uh, can I help you?"

Forge gesticulated for a moment, pointing at Garrison in a mix of frustration and indignation. "The chip in your spine. It's a biological construct based off of a machine-muscle interface controller I designed about eighteen months ago. I licensed the patent to a medical company for medical use. Now, since I didn't catch anything in your medical records about having been a paraplegic, I'm wondering who reverse-engineered my design and decided to use it for a military application."

"Well, you'd have to talk to the Canadian government about that. Try the Honourable Robert MacDonald's office. The number is on the website." Garrison took a swallow of his soup. The little man in front of him had to be Forge. He'd been briefed on the security chief, although they hadn't actually spoken yet. Quite the way to change that fact.

"Also, I'm not part of the military." Kane said mildly.

"Right, just a 'government employee', then," Forge said derisively, looking around Garrison's suite. "I need to talk to the organ grinder, obviously, and not the monkey. So, two implanted neural stunning devices, an organic reflex enhancement chip... what else have you got in there?" He paced around, narrowing his eyes at the older Mountie. "For curiosity's sake, mind you. What'd they do, figure you could take the surgery, so pack as much gear as they can into Dudley Do-Right before his system starts rejecting it? The wonders of socialized medicine, eh?"

"First off, I'm a Special Inspector for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police." Garrison sounded almost pleasant, but there was just a hint of undertone that implied impugning the force was likely not a safe choice for a long term future. "Secondly, the research program that I was involved in is part of Department H, and I'm not allowed to disclose those details with non-essential personnel here at the mansion. Since you're neither a leggy African woman, a one-eyed pilot... man, that sounds weird, or the new balder mutant MLK, you qualify as non-essential, eh."

"Non-essential?" Forge's eyebrows hit his hairline as he stopped dead in his tracks. "The glorified thug with a badge is calling me non-essential personnel? If it weren't for me, half the staff here would be..." He held back an epithet, just shaking a finger in Garrison's direction. "You bet your ass I'm following up on this, Special Inspector. Just don't come crying down to my lab when your second-hand gadgets run out of batteries. I'm sure Preparation H or whatever takes good care of their toys."

"It's biotechnology, Mister Forge. It doesn't run on batteries. Are you sure you're the one in charge of technology here?" Kane said, deliberately playing dense. One of the things he'd noticed in the mansion is despite the claims of the staff to support law and order, they didn't have a lot of respect for either the law or the police. Likely something to do with the mutant policies of the United States, and the police likely serving as the most visible arm of persecution. That didn't mean, however, he was going to let some puffed up high schooler jump up and down on him for no reason.

"It's a figure of speech, you toque-toting twerp," Forge grumbled, turning for the door. "Friggin' Canadian government no respect for intellectual property... this is why I need a damn business degree. And a pack of lawyers..." he growled quietly before looking over his shoulder at Garrison. "I'll give that Right Honorable Whatsisname a call, trust me. I don't take kindly to people misappropriating tech I've developed, no matter how noble their intentions. Good day."

"It's MacDonald. Do you want me to write it down for you?" Kane called after him. "M-A-C, not MC. He's very touchy about that."

Kane sat back down to his soup and the newspaper. Maybe it was a good time to take a longer look at Mister Forge, and see exactly what he was dealing with. First impressions were important, and Kane's first impression was that Forge spent a lot of time in lockers during high school. Might be time to remind him of that. "Toque-toting twerp, eh?"

The slam of the door and loud shuffling of feet in the hall was the
only response.