Last week, there was a crash landing in the center of the city and no one is talking about it. If you had moved to the city, the day after you wouldn't have even known there was an incident. The whole situation was written off in some way or another.
The "Higher-Ups" said the incident was from a fallen part of a privatized rocket. Your average civilian or even a detective such as myself couldn't get near the damn thing to object that statement. Not even 15 minutes after the damn thing landed, "suits" surrounded the site and made it impossible to get near it or even see it from a distance.
Pictures on the internet, that had gotten even somewhat of a glimpse of what it might have been was removed on multiple social accounts. Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, you name it.
Everything had to be word of mouth or at least kept to one's self if there was even a whisper that you had something to prove 'their' story wrong, well there were means to deal with you. Everything had to be discreet or at least discredited, and oh did they discredit people. Labeling people who went against their story as crazed conspiracy theorists. They even questioned your well-being if you disagreed, maybe you were working too many hours. Maybe you were running on too little sleep. Or maybe just maybe the job had finally gotten to your head.
The truth was and still is: I know (like many others) what I saw that night, that wasn't a part of a faulty rocket from some privatized space program. It was a vessel of some sorts. It glowed with a bright yellow, and it was foreign. Not from a different nation, but foreign to this planet.
Next thing you know before you can even answer your deepest wonders about the object, some shady branch of government is quarantining the place off completely. And we are fed this false bullcrap story about a privatized space program.
The average person is okay with this false narrative, they believe everything they're told for better or worse. Who are they to question the government, the news, and everything else they're being fed?
Another Truth is: Because of my need to solve all of this, I was forced to go home multiple days to "rest" from my superior. He has me being monitored during the day, people coming by my desk acting interested in whatever case I have at the moment. They're wandering eyes and half smiles give them away, they don't care about some street punk I'm chasing down. No, they're only task and goal is to find out if I'm still on edge about last week. So, I play along, I march to the tune they have all decided to play, at least while they are all around. You'd be surprised how empty a precinct is at midnight, how alone one can be. That's why I'm here now, alone with only my personal leads on this matter and whatever notes I can scribble down.
Last week, there was a crash landing in the center of the city and no one is talking about it.....and I want to know why.
- Alexander Whitaker.
Just to be clear this is a different Universe, so a different Detective Whitaker than before.
Time had passed since the incident. It seemed like just yesterday, Whitaker was sitting at his desk and Danny was coming by with his daily 1st dozen of Donuts. He would go by damn near everybody in the precinct, making sure they got their own daily dosage of jelly-filling. Of course he started with the ones he was closest too. Whitaker, Crews, Castillo, and Brian when he was with The Force division. He tended to be a happy man as long as he had a donut in the last couple of hours. Whitaker would take one bite of his, just to change something different in between cups of coffees. Crews and Castillo would take turns poking the plushy bear. That was then, before the incident, before everything.
On Day 1 of the reformation of The Force, the incident happened. A psychotic Meta, drew emergency responders out with an act of arson, then that same meta strategically dismantled those same emergency responders limb by limb as some sort of insane homicidal masterpiece.
And that was all just a ploy to pull the reformed Force Team out; the same unit that was inexperienced in working together. The Psychotic Meta did her part, and the Force fell into their role in the plan perfectly. They spread themselves thin throughout the city, and then biochemical bombs detonated, followed by more chaos. The Psychotic Meta was soon revealed to be just as much of a pawn as the Force Unit was made out to be for the Master Plan.
The true Mastermind of the whole catastrophe soon after came face to face with the Force Unit.
After everything transpired and time passed, the Papers have mixed reviews about the reformed Unit. Some saying the City was lucky to have such brave heroes to come to their aid in its time of need, and this was a win for its citizens.
If you asked Whitaker about his first day returning to The Force: Win, Lucky, and Heroes would not be the words coming out of his mouth.
No matter how the public wanted to spin the story to light, all Whitaker saw was darkness after what transpired on the Force’s First Day.
The Death of the Psychotic Meta, in his eyes did not and should not outweigh what the Force lost that day.
Yes, The Arsonist died after being beat down by two Force Operatives, and the world is blessed to have a scum like that off it’s surface. But that’s not all that happened, and that good thing should not outshine what happened to The Force members.
Agent Sarah Castillo, a 30 year old Force Member who was always open to settling things physically, pushed her superior Evander Slade, out of harm’s way and was full bodied strangled into critical condition by the “Clown Meta” who planned the whole attack on Day 1. After the incident, resided in a hospital accompanied by her brother, and on the verge of death. This alone equated this battle with the Metas a loss in Whitaker’s Book. A scum like the Homicidal Meta being killed was not worth the life of Agent Sarah Castillo. Even if by some more miracles, Castillo was able to survive, her ability to walk would still have been robbed from her, and even that was worth more than the Meta that was beat to death.
Daniel Womack, The charismatic overweight agent with a heart of gold and veins of jelly-filling, was taken from God’s Green Earth. One of the Original Force Members. After the Original Force was shutdown, Daniel Womack made it his job to bring it back one way or another. Single-handedly raising enough money to suffice the Meta Crime Unit to come to once again. Even recruiting members such as Michael Whitaker, another member of the first version of the Force. Daniel “Donut Danny” Womack was murdered on the same day all these events transpired, by an unknown assailant.
And today is his funeral, in attendance is his loving family, Michael Whitaker, Several other Force members, and even some of the donors that brought his dream of the Force back to life. Whitaker after being asked by Danny’s loving wife to do so, decided to give some words about Daniel. As sniffling and wailing echoed throughout the Church, Whitaker found it a bit hard to speak. Speaking to an audience wasn’t hard, Michael felt he had done it many times before when on duty, but this wasn’t his kind of audience. Even the few sentences he had jotted down seemed not right for the occasion.
He looked at the room, at the now widowed Mrs. Womack, then at the casket that laid before him. One last breath, and then he finally spoke from his heart.
“Daniel Womack, was one of those people looking back now that you realized you took for granted. In all my years working for the law, I have never met a more giving, wholehearted person than Daniel Womack. I mean I can’t count the times that Danny has woken me up with a cup of coffee and a pack of donuts, after a late night of working. Of course the pack of donuts would almost be done before they hit my table,” he joked followed by a few chuckles breaking the sniffs, “ but that was Danny. I truly feel blessed to have known Danny on my years on The Force, and I know he wouldn’t have been anywhere else on his last day, then right beside his brother in arms.” Mrs. Womack nodded up in down to confirm the statement. “Daniel Womack, as we all know reformed The Force as a testament that no matter who you are, what is right is right, and what’s wrong is wrong. Danny died with that belief, and I hope that we all for him, continue to live to that very same belief.”
Michael stepped down from the podium, giving his condolences one last time to his fallen brother’s wife, then preceding to the Casket itself. Michael laid his arm on it and leaned over it to whisper to it, “Danny I promise I’ll find who did this.” He reached into his coat pocket to pull out a bag with one jelly on the outside, sprinkles on the inside donut. He slightly opened the casket to put it his partner’s favorite donut, “Enjoy it, I’m gonna miss ya big guy.”
At the end of the burying, after his friend got put to rest, Michael Whitaker walked out of that cemetery a changed man.
The events of that day and its aftermath had opened his eyes. There was too many coincidences that day. He realized the Force was as much to blame for Danny’s death as the Criminal who got away with it was. He could no longer be a part of the System. The Criminal System is flawed and favored towards the very ones, it is supposed to put away, favored towards the very ones who knowingly abuse it. Criminals don’t need help, they already have enough of it.
Criminals have always had the upper hand. They don’t operate through the same moral code as most, They don’t have strict laws that keep them in a cage to operate in, and when someone gets in their way they simply “cut them loose”.
Justice should know no boundaries, Justice should not be caged and expected to still hunt. Whitaker promised to find out who murdered Danny, and he will no longer fight an uphill battle with those Justice seeks.
At the end of the day, what is right is right and what’s wrong is wrong.