Hours later Borb was back resting at his over sized estate on Sol II, being a rich bachelor with to much free time and even more money had it's perks as Borb had learned well.

"Who'da thought that fat little drunk could shoot."

He mumbled looking at the two small holes in his left leg.

"Very good groupings too..."

He mused placing three fingers over the distance between the holes and factoring all that Leber had to over come in order to hit him at all much less to double tap his thigh and maintain a such good shot placement. Though at the same time he could have been aiming for Borb's head and just have missed.

Fixing the limb was no problem. Serco doctors have been doing for as long as they can remember, Borb even had them dig out the bullets. As he looked at them now waiting for a commercial to end on the holo news he was watching he wondered what it would take to get them a heliocine coating and stick them on a necklace.

After what seemed to be an eternity Borb looked up to the smiling face of Ann Stutters as the commercials ended and she greeted every one to the Serco nightly news.

In no time they where replaying the news reels from the events he had participated in earlier that day. He could not help but laugh as he re-watched him self in action, some how seeing him self work always awed him. Then as he sent Leebs a one finger solute and flew off to the sky laughter grew as he realized that even after blowing the place to hell some reporters still remained and where demanding Leber answer the questions Borb had posed.

Stifling his giggling Borb turned up the volume and settled in to hear Leber make a fool of him self some more.

"I know II'm not a member of the press but, I do have one question for you Lebermac. Why do you want to be Commander of ITAN?"

First off, do you want Smittens to be Commander? There's half your reason right there

LeberMac scratched his head a bit, which was feeling better now as the press rolled out. He was surprised to see Erik and Jestatis still there, looking at him for an answer. The bright lights of news droids still shone on him, now that the chaos was over.

"Well, uh..." LeberMac began, "Well, with Mogul gone completely nutso, I feel that I can lead the guild well as his successor. I mean, well.. I think I can. With everyone's help, that is."

LeberMac's head hurt sharply again, then he stared into the cameras and said "A guild isn't based solely on the individual at the top, it's more important to have quality members and a tight brotherhood between those members. The numbers of people in your guild don't matter, only the quality of those who ARE members matter. When you have that, the person whose face is in the camera matters not, because the guild acts as one."

MAN his head hurt. He needed a drink...

Jandis Bosh was finishing up his vidcall: "...kay, right. Yes. I'm cutting it short. Gods YES I saw that, I can't believe he's still taking questions.. no, NO I'll take care of it. Yes, the operative did good work, looks like things are winding down and the event will be over soon. Right. Yes, he deserves a bonus if he took some fire. Roger... out."

Bosh clasped the Secure-Link™ vidcomm unit closed and dropped it into his vest pocket. Making his way through the fleeing press corps, he found LeberMac still talking to people, the mindless camerabot-droids recording every word.

"Okay, well everyone, thanks for your time but we have an important set of campaign meetings. Further questions can be addressed to the campaign press office. Thank youuuuu...."

He grabbed LeberMac by the arm and started to lead him away.

"Hey!" LeberMac reacted, "I was starting to get the hang of this!"
"Idiot!" Bosh replied, "The more you talk the more you reinforce the impression of you as nothing but a drunken pilot who's way out of his depth. Now LET'S GO." Bosh pulled hard on Leber's arm and the two began to make their way towards the exit through the rubble and crimescene investigations.

As Bosh led LeberMac away from certain political doom, he keyed a secret subcranial comm device by adjusting his jaw in a certain way.
"Yes?" a voice said, heard only inside Bosh's skull.
"Terminate connection." Bosh said tersely.
"Acknowledged." the voice said, and his subcranial comm device shut down before he walked through the hall's security scanners on the way out. A security guard handed Bosh a package in a brown paper bag.

"Here, you did well today for the most part, Leber. You deserve this." He handed the bottle to Leber, hoping his timing was right.

LeberMac took the bag from Bosh as he continued to walk down the hallway, away from the press. He opened it.

"Hey! Thanks, Bosh! MAN you have no idea how much I could use a drink right now.", LeberMac said as he opened the bottle and took a swig, savoring the warmth of the fine tequila as it slid down his throat, noticing that his headache immediately ceased.

"Wow. Much better, Bosh!" LeberMac said, and happily strolled down the hallway, bottle in hand, feeling, well, much better.

Bosh regarded Leber carefully as he took the drink. Yes. He had timed the shutoff perfectly. One more day, and plans could proceed further.

But some scuffling could be heard down the hall behind them. "Mister Mac! LeberMac! One more question!" The echoes of the lone press agent made LeberMac turn, smiling, ready for that last question.

Jandis Bosh hung his head and braced for the worst...

Borb sat back in his bed as he look over the screen of a small secured bank terminal. He grinned as the numbers increased rapidly for a second. Looking at the large number of digits he once again had to remind him self that the money was really only a way of paying for the fun he had when doing his "job".

Itani, Serco, UiT. What did it really matter, they all had cash and as long as it never hurt his overall long term goals why not. Besides the war would not last forever and in the end he would need some thing to retire with, when work was not so available.

He glanced up from the small computer back to the holo projection. Lebers interview was ending, Leber was starting to actually sound smart for once in his life, then Bosh ran up and pulled him away from the mic.

Borb would never understand how Itanis worked, but that was not his job, his job was over at least for now. All any one would remember is him blasting away in the horror stricken crowed, not the fool Leber was for politics.

Glancing back down and the large line of numbers on the computer, mumbling as he did so.

"4 dead 6..."

He winced as his hand brushed his thigh.

"7 wounded, and worst of all having to use an energy gun for a land based operation."

Numbers and things kept running in his mind till he finally pushed the computer back into it's slot in the wall and assured him self.

"Borby your going to hell."

Is it just me... or is the title of this thread "[ITAN] Erection irregularities!" ?

Glad to have the last question of this conference asked, LeberMac turned to Zoras Ock and said:

"No, the title is Election Irregularities, but of all people, Gods know you are the expert in erection irregularities, Ock."

LeberMac winked and hit the exit doors, with Jandis Bosh following behind him, scowling...

Shape stood in the back, taking in the view.

He whispered to his compatriot,
"I can't figure out if it's stupidity or genius...
Either way, Smittens will have his work cut out for him."

His companion nodded mechanically.

Shape turned and walked out,
"We may have our work cut out for us too..."

Dr. Lecter rubbed at his knees, which had migrated south from their proper place by a full foot and a half, and silently cursed the Itani monks for being so goddamn short. Blending into the back of the still milling crowd, his face hidden under the hood of his monk’s cloak, he looked over and saw Shape was still present.

“[BLAK] does get around,” he thought… “first Borby decides to become a well-armed peanut gallery, and now the ex-leader of the bunch felt the need to see Lever in person. Borb I get, anything for a joke and a buck. Shape, though...hrm. I wonder why.”

The brilliant star's piercing blue light glared in through the expanse of vismetal into a luxurious office, now unkempt from what appeared to be a flurry of recent activity. The office belonged to Jandis Bosh, and at this moment he was pacing worriedly around this office in Deneb's Ellias Stand Station. Unfortunately, the office, its perks, and the luxurious appointments to which he had become accustomed to during the campaign were about to disappear.

The results were in. The people had spoken. Smittens was the new Commander of [ITAN], and the last Itani court had rejected Bosh's final recount request. It was over. He had lost. Well, technically, LeberMac had lost.

It wasn't the losing that infuriated him. It wasn't the loss of money, the impact on his livelihood, or the obvious dressing down he was about to receive from his superiors. No, none of those things annoyed him as much as this one thing:

LeberMac didn't care.

The fool! What was he thinking? Nevermind that, Jandis knew damn well what LeberMac was thinking, he'd been trying to override it as best as possible with the crudely-constructed Neural Spike assembly. The organization he worked for had given him access to the partially-completed device, and although it was built from incomplete plans, the myriad of technicians that operated it deep within the planet core could fine-tune it to at least work partially. Only two of the three known surviving Spike recipients had been susceptible to its influence, and LeberMac was the least affected of the two.

Using the device, Jandis had been able to push LeberMac to make the politically correct statements at the right times during the political campaign. Well, at least partially, even at full power, LeberMac was near-impossible to control effectively, and having a vegetable as Commander wouldn't do, either. So the spike was used sparingly, only at critical junctures, and then it was a toss up as to whether it would cause permanent brain damage. "LeberMac", Jandis spat. "You could have made us both very powerful men..." The imbecile apparently had some backing amongst the Itani people, and if the spike had only been slightly more effective...

"BAH!" Jandis snorted, and swept his campaign documents from his desk with a forceful blow. The broken shards of data crystals glinted in the azure glow of Deneb, their polling data and demographics information now worthless, scattered on the floor. The mercenaries, the mind control, the disinformation, the lies, all for naught.

He sat down in the plush HoverBoy Mk. IV OfficePro™ leather recliner and exhaled, facing away from the harsh glare of the blue supergiant star streaming in through the window. He examined his crisp shadow on the wall and asked it a question: "OK, so now what do I do?" He would have to wait here for a call from his superiors. His failure would surely not go over well.

Jandis noticed a slight dimming of the glare, and then a shape began to form a new shadow on the wall. He recognized it as the distinct outline of a BioCom Vulture - they have that funny extra opening on the port side, underneath the wing. "Hrmm.", Bosh wondered ,"Why are the Itani Station Guard flying BioCom vults...", hence he turned around and was startled to see the jet-black vulture hanging silently in space, scant meters away from him on the other side of the glass.

He gulped.

The vulture came closer until it's black vismetal cockpit came into contact with the glass window with the slightest of taps.

"Jandis Bosh." The black vulture said, transmitting in one of the only secure methods left in the universe.

Jandis quickly composed himself and gingerly stepped over the shattered data crystals. "Ahh... Yes?" he said tentativley.

"Jandis Bosh... come closer, the sound transmission properties of this glass are poor and it is difficult to hear you. There is a new wrinkle from an old friend."

Bosh pressed his skull to the glass, all the while wondering who in the universe could still count him as a friend after his failure with rigging the [ITAN] elections. "Yes, I am here..." he said.

"Ah! That is better!" The amplified voice boomed through his skull now that his head, the glass, and the cockipt of the vulture were all in contact. "We have news regarding the second device."

His breathing stopped and Bosh's voice lowered instinctively, "You have obtained Lecter's NSI prototype?"

"No." the black vulture retorted. "We know where it is. We need someone to... retrieve it. Are you prepared?"

Bosh now wished he had been shot by the vulture. He stammered, "S-Surely you have others more suited to..."

"NO!" the dark voice hovered outside the window like an angel of death backlit by the stunning blue of Deneb, giving him the posibility of a continued existence in exchange for a deal with the devil. "You must do this. WE. Wish. It."

"It shall be done." Bosh said quietly. The black vulture's occupant said two words: "Bractus Stronghold," then quietly disengaged from the station and slipped off directly towards Deneb, until the star's glare eclipsed the form of the vulture, then a warp halo and the Angel was gone.

Plots and formulations and tactics churned in his mind, as if a switch had been turned on that allowed him to think more clearly, more abstractly, and faster than ever before. It was a strange feeling, being spared from death in order to accomplish an almost impossible task. He wept.

And he made his way to Bractus.

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