Fic: Deja Vu - Chapter Eight
Jared and Jensen are hauled to their feet and frogmarched across town. They’re dragged into the looming glass-and-steel headquarters of Morgan Corp and down to a room that Jensen remembers all too well.
The room has a lot of electronic equipment, some medical equipment and several black vinyl gurneys with straps and manacles. Jensen recognizes Dr James Stuart immediately. They knew each other vaguely when Jensen worked out of this building as an intelligence officer and they met again the first time Jensen was reprogrammed. Jensen has never liked him. He’s a smarmy corporate ladder-climber and almost definitely a sociopath.
The other man and woman in the room, Jensen doesn’t recognize. They’re both wearing white lab coats like Stuart though, so he guesses they’re part of the reprogramming team, although why Morgan has decided to reprogram him again, especially after the last failure, is puzzling. And didn’t Morgan outright say he was going to kill them?
Stuart grins, his trademark toothy sneer, and tells the security officers to strap his patients down.
Jensen fights with everything he has in him. He manages to stomp on insteps, knee groins and headbutt faces, but there are too many people holding him, too many people wrestling him onto the gurney, too many people strapping him down. He’s vaguely aware of Jared trying to fight off his own group of security people and a small part of his brain notes that Jared doesn’t appear to be fighting very hard.
When they’re both strapped down, Morgan comes and stands over Jensen, his expression smooth and serene.
“I was going to kill you both,” he says. “But then I figured that was just too easy.” He puts an arm around Stuart. “Dr Stuart and I have cooked up something really fitting for both of you,” Morgan looks at his watch again. “I’ll let him explain it all to you. I have an ambassador to expel from Mars.”
Jensen watches Morgan leave, taking his security team with him.
Dr Stuart begins to fit a skull cap full of wires to Jensen’s head.
“So let me tell you what we’ve got planned for you this time,” Stuart says conversationally, his thin lips twisted and his eyes narrow and beady. The man has resting sneer-face and Jensen remembers wanting to punch the smug out of him the very first time he met Dr James Stuart. That hasn’t changed.
“We’re going to reprogram you both as sex slaves,” Stuart says gleefully. “Fill your minds with memories of being cruelly used since your teen years, and then we’re going to sell you to the slave dungeons on Titan where you’ll be fucked and beaten and otherwise tortured to death within a few short years.” He smiles, lips pressed together and wide eyes filled with cruel delight. “So you see, you still die. It just takes longer and before you go, you’ll think your whole life has been one of pain and misery.” Stuart manages to look supremely happy about this and Jensen glowers and tries to think of something cutting to say.
Before he can, Jared speaks. “Undo all the straps,” he says, and the lab coat who’s been attending to him, does exactly that, freeing Jared’s head, then both of his arms.
“What are you-?” Stuart’s confused question is cut short when Jared uses a freed arm to break the lab coat’s neck.
“Shit. You’re a fucking psychic,” Stuart lunges for the panic button, but Jared reaches out a hand (an unnecessary gesture, but Jared claims it helps him focus his energy) and uses the power of his mind to pin Stuart in place. He calmly undoes the manacles around his feet and climbs off the gurney. The woman by the bank of electronics is frozen in place, whether in fear or because Jared is holding her immobile too, Jensen can’t tell. Jared instructs her to climb onto the gurney he’s just vacated and then he straps her down, before hurriedly unstrapping Jensen.
Dr Stuart takes advantage of his distraction to make another lunge for the panic button. Jensen grabs the nearest thing to hand, which just so happens to be some kind of sharp-edged probe that looks a little like a thigh bone, and stabs it into Stuart’s neck. Arterial blood sprays out sideways making a pretty pattern on the wall and Stuart gurgles and sneers and crumples to the floor.
Stuart keeps a pistol in his desk drawer and Jensen helps himself to it before they leave. He takes a scalpel too and slips it into the top pocket of his overalls.
There are two guards outside the door and Jared mind-whammies them before they can react to the sudden appearance of the two guys who should be strapped to gurneys right now.
“Which way?” Jared asks Jensen, and Jensen touches his i-band and brings up a holomap of the building.
The one good thing to come out of their capture is the fact that they are now inside the very building they needed to be in, and they got in without having to fight or con their way inside.
They pass a couple of people in the corridors, but no-one whose hackles are raised by a couple of maintenance guys walking purposefully down a hallway.
There are two guards outside the satellite control room and Jared gives them a big friendly, “Hey there, fellas,” and then puts them both in a trance.
Jensen sees beads of sweat running down the side of Jared’s face and when Jared wipes at his nose, his hand comes away bloody.
“Jared?” Jensen says, his voice concern and warning in one.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jared says. “I’m being careful. I’m trying to give us as much time as I can, but I’m conserving my energy too.”
The thing with mind-whammying, as Jared calls it, is that it wears off. There’s not a single psychic who can make a mind-whammy last for longer than twelve hours and whatever delusions they’ve implanted or memories they’ve tampered with, it won’t last through the subject falling asleep, which seems to act like some kind of brain re-set. The longer Jared makes the delusion or the memory loss last, the more of a toll it takes on him, hence the nose-bleed. At its worst, he can pass out and they really don’t have time for that.
The four staff inside the satellite control room are all unarmed civilians and they’re able to take care of them the old-fashioned way; Jensen points his gun at them and tells them all to move to the back of the room and not to try to be heroes. The staff are all very obedient as they’re tied up and locked inside a large spare parts cupboard.
“Okay,” Jensen pulls the scalpel from his pocket and hands it to Jared. “Let’s do this.”
He unbuttons his overalls and pulls his arms out, letting the top part drop to the floor. He then undoes a few more buttons until he can get at his hip.
“It’s here,” he says, pointing at the flesh just down from his hipbone.
Jared nods and tells him to turn around and brace himself against the wall. He does as he’s told and a moment later Jared’s hands are on him. Jensen can’t help his sharp intake of breath-Jared’s hands on his ass will never fail to turn him on-and the bite of the scalpel is a welcome distraction.
“Got it,” Jared says, holding up a bloodied chip.
Jensen takes it from him and wipes it off. “Alright,” he says with a grin. “Show time!”
He touches his i-band. “We’re in, Charlie.”
Felicia tells him where to put the chip and talks him through infecting the stand-alone computer system with a virus that will cause the MRA’s footage to play on a continuous loop that none of the Morgan Corp techs will be able to stop. Then she talks him through the process of setting up a broadcast.
“Alright,” she says finally. “We’re set. Go ahead, Jensen. Make history.”
Jensen switches on the system’s i-cam and speaks into it, the camera focused on his eyes only. “Do not attempt to adjust your set,” he says. “This is an MRA Video bulletin. The cable hack will last as long as we want it to. We cannot be traced, we cannot be stopped and we are the only free voice left on this planet. What you are about to see is conclusive proof the Governor Jeff Morgan and his people cut off the air supply to Venusville today and that they cut off the air supply to Morganville eight months ago, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people whose only crime was to be injured in a mining accident caused by Morgan’s greed and failure to adhere to safety standards. Morgan can’t be allowed to remain Governor of Mars and we are calling for his immediate removal and for charges to be brought against him. Thank you for your attention.”
He starts to broadcast the MRA footage. They have interviews with survivors of Morgan’s attempt to wipe out the people of Venusville, and interviews with the people who the MRA rescued when he cut off Morganville’s air, as well as footage showing that the air supply into Venusville had been deliberately stopped by the control room. It’s damning stuff and not only do they transmit it to Earth, they set it up to broadcast on every holo-screen, every flat-screen and every i-band on Mars.
Jensen lets the satellite control room staff out of the cupboard. “Y’all might want to see this,” he says, and switches on a flat screen monitor.
The security officers outside are still dazed and Jared and Jensen relieve them of their weapons and their uniforms and send them inside to watch the broadcast. Jared’s uniform is far too tight across his shoulders and is going to tear the moment he sees any action. The trousers are ridiculously short too, but they have a big hem, which Jared tears down. Jensen’s counting on things being too chaotic for a senior officer to pull him up for uniform violations.
“Your dad?” Jared says, when he’s as ready as he’s going to be, and Jensen nods.
Things are chaotic.
They narrowly avoid a squad of security officers on their way to the satellite control room. It’s too late for them to do anything anyway; there are probably only four people in the known universe capable of reversing the virus that Felicia had Jensen upload onto the satellite’s computer system, and not a one of them would lift a finger to help Morgan Corp. The only way to knock out the broadcast now is to knock out the satellite. Which Morgan may well do, but the message has already gone out to Earth, and that would only make him look even guiltier.
Everywhere they look there are clumps of people gathered around flatscreens, i-band holos and holo-stages, watching the broadcast with worried expressions. Most people in the Upper Dome didn’t know the full extent of Morgan Corp’s evil, but they didn’t care too much either. So long as they were given plausible explanations for the evil, the profits kept flowing and their lives stayed comfortable and privileged, they were happy. Now that plausible deniability has been thrown out the window, it will be interesting to see how people react.
Jared and Jensen make their way to the Ambassador’s residence, which has been completely trashed; the wall paintings are skewed, the furniture upturned and the sculptures are all smashed.
They don’t find Morgan, but they do find Alan Ackles. He and his staff appear from inside the panic room where they’d locked themselves as soon as they saw Morgan returning with a squad of security officers.
“We’ve been watching your broadcast,” Alan says proudly.
Kim Rhodes and Mama Kane come and hug Jensen hard. “You should’ve seen Morgan,” Kim says. “We were watching him and his guys on the CCTV in the panic room. When he got word about your escape and the broadcast, he lost it. Had a real temper tantrum.”
Jensen figures that explains the smashed sculptures and upturned furniture.
“What’s your plan from here?” Alan asks.
Jensen looks at Jared and shrugs. “Actually,” he says, “this is as far as the plan went. I guess we sneak back home and wait to see what happens.”
Alan shakes his head. “You can’t give Morgan any opportunity to regain control. Things are unstable now; it’s time to really upset the apple cart.”
“How do we do that?” Jared asks.
“Amanda Tapping,” Alan says.
“Who?” Jared asks.
“Director of the Mars Intelligence Agency,” Jensen says. “My former boss.” He turns to his father. “You really think she’d help?”
“Oh yes,” Alan nods. “Morgan may be Governor of Mars, but Amanda’s loyalties lie with the President of the Unified Territories. She’ll be happy to make Morgan the fall guy if it will make the President look better in the eyes of the voters.”
To say that Jeffrey Dean Morgan is surprised when his own security forces arrest him would be something of an understatement. He goes red, then puce and finally white. He splutters and shouts, but gives in rather easily in the end. It’s a little anti-climactic and Jensen is disappointed. He expected the man who came so close to ruining his life to go out with something bigger than a whimper.
Of course, it turns out that Morgan has a backup plan; a couple of security officers who are still loyal to him, and he manages to escape custody and get off-planet within hours of his arrest. Rumor has it that he’s gone to Titan, where his good friend Mark Shepherd is Governor. If the stories about the slave dungeons of Titan are true, then Mark’s nickname, the King of Hell, is well-deserved.
The security officers in the Pyramid Mine and the MRA both stand down and the mine workers are taken to the New Dome to reunite with their families. Work begins immediately on reattaching the New Dome to the Old Dome.
The power vacuum on Mars that follows Morgan’s departure sees the Upper Dome establishment jockeying for position. The MRA are demanding a seat at the table too and tensions are high. Mars is a mess. Production in the mine halts completely for the first time ever (for real…Morgan had ‘shut down production’ before, but had never actually stopped mining) and there is panic on Earth. Morgan had been shipping only small quantities of turbinium ore to Earth for years, telling everyone that the mine was nearly empty, that excavation costs were expensive, that the process was time consuming. As a result, the Homeworld has virtually no reserves and barely enough turbinium to sustain their power and fuel needs from month to month.
The Upper Dome establishment and the MRA blame each other for the production halt.
As someone with a foot in both worlds, Jensen finds himself doing a lot of politicking. It’s not something he enjoys, but he turns out to be surprisingly good at it. Jared does a lot of background work, reading minds, soothing ruffled feathers, chatting to the Upper Dome servants who are frequently far more forthcoming with the truth than their employers. Through them he discovers Morgan’s very large, very secret stockpile of turbinium ore. Jensen orders the bulk of it shipped to Earth. He’s beyond shocked when the President appoints him interim Governor of Mars.
At least he knows he has the local Ambassador’s backing.
Jensen and Jared move into Morgan’s old residence and Jensen misses their yali like a severed limb. Morgan’s place is ostentatious and pretentious and nothing about it feels homey. Jared hates it. And they’re barely getting to spend any time together, thanks to the fucking needs of State.
Jensen gets home very late one night after a truly frustrating meeting with the Breathable Air Committee who are throwing up all sorts of obstacles to Jensen’s proposal that oxygen rationing be evenly split between all three Dome levels instead of predominantly borne by the Lower Dome. He’s seriously thinking about taking his gun to the next meeting and he needs Jared to talk him out of it.
Jared is sacked out in their bed, fast asleep. He looks pale, and if the wad of Kleenexes in the trashcan in the bathroom is any indication, he had a killer nose-bleed earlier.
As hard as Jensen’s been working lately, Jared has been working equally as hard. He just hasn’t been getting the same degree of credit that Jensen has, because the establishment, both here on Mars and on Earth, don’t know quite how to deal with Jared. For a start, he’s a mutant. And a psychic. He’s also the male partner of the interim governor and no-one is quite sure how to treat him. They certainly can’t picture him as the First Lady, that’s for sure. Jensen snorts softly to himself. The establishment is still horrendously sexist and homophobic, both problems he’s going to have to deal with sooner rather than later.
Jensen strips down to his shorts and slips quietly into bed beside Jared, who stretches, his eyes blinking open. “Hi,” he says, soft and sleepy.
Jensen puts a hand to his face and cups his cheek. “Hi,” he says. “You okay, man?”
“Tired,” Jared says. He rolls onto his side, facing Jensen, and props his head up on his hand. “But not too tired,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
It’s been far too long since they were able to spend some quality time together. Lately, it’s been all quick and dirty hand jobs as they fall exhausted into bed or, if they’re really lucky, the occasional blow job in the shower. Jensen misses being able to spread Jared out on the bed beneath him and take him to pieces slowly, with fingers and lips and tongue.
Despite his fatigue, Jensen desperately wants to sink his teeth into the flesh of Jared’s broad back, and his dick deep into his tight ass. But. He stifles a yawn and then says, “I saw the kleenexes in the trashcan.” He tries not to make it an accusation.
Jared sighs and rolls onto his back. “Some of these guys have pretty decent blocks in. But,” he hesitates. “I think I’m onto something big. I’m gonna go through all Morgan’s private computer files tomorrow and then…if I’m right, it could change everything.”
“Tell me,” Jensen says, but Jared shakes his head.
“If I’m right,” he says. “If I find what I think I’m going to find.”
Jensen wants to argue, but decides there are probably better things he could be doing with his lips and tongue. He rolls on top of Jared and is pleased when he finds that Jared is naked. Jared spreads his legs, his eyes heating up and his cock filling rapidly and Jensen tugs his own shorts off with one hand and tries not to knee Jared in the balls while he’s doing it. They both end up giggling and Jensen puts his hand on Jared’s chest to feel the vibrations. It’s been a while since they laughed. It feels good. And the fond way that Jared is looking up at him feels good too.
“I love you,” he says, because apparently he’s turned into a giant sap.
“I know,” Jared says. Well, he is psychic. “I love you too.” He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a pot of salve. “You wanna show me just how much you love me?”
And yeah, Jensen really, really does.
The next morning, there’s a very definite hitch in Jared’s step and he lowers himself carefully to sit at the breakfast table. Jensen can’t help his self-satisfied grin.
“Asshole,” Jared says mildly.
Jensen’s grin only broadens.
He’s in a meeting with the Morgan Corp Board who are demanding compensation for the halt to production and the loss of mining revenue, when Jared pushes his way into the boardroom, with a nervous receptionist running behind him, telling him he can’t go in.
“Come in, Jared,” Jensen glares at the receptionist until she pales and goes away.
Jared stalks to the board table and takes an empty seat. His shoulders and neck are tense, but Jensen thinks you’d have to know Jared really well to appreciate just how angry he is right now.
Jared throws a file down on the table and looks at the Morgan Corp board members one by one. “Anyone like to guess what’s in that file?” he asks.
The board members all stare at the table.
“In this file,” Jared says, “is proof that when the first colonists arrived on Mars, Morgan Corp deliberately sabotaged the terra forming equipment and faked its atmospheric test results to discourage future terra forming. I particularly like the line where the CFO at the time,” he stares at the current Chief Financial Officer, “your great, great grandfather, I believe, states in his report, and I quote: ‘The duty we have to our shareholders to maximise their profits far outweighs the duty we have to provide the citizens of Earth with a safe alternative planet.’ I bet the 12.3 million people who died in the ’97 tsunami,” Jared’s tone is brittle, “died happy, knowing your Goddamn profits didn’t suffer!”
“Look,” Demore Barnes begins in a tone that’s probably supposed to be placating, but fall short by several miles. Barnes is Morgan’s replacement as CEO and he’s still pissed that he didn’t get the Governorship of Mars too, like every other Morgan Corp CEO ever has. The President had learned that lesson though; it’s far too much power to have in the hands of one person. “I know you’re new at this, but what you have to understand-”
And Jensen’s just done. “Get out,” he says, his voice deceptively calm.
Barnes turns to him. “Governor Ackles-”
He shuts up fast when Jensen places a gun on the table. “I said,” Jensen repeats, not even raising his eyes from the table. “Get out.”
There’s shuffling and footsteps and the door opening and closing and then it’s quiet in the room, save for the sound of his own breathing. He looks up to make sure that Jared is still in the room. He is.
“Show me,” he says, and Jared moves to Jensen’s end of the table and shows him everything he’s found. “I think Misha suspected,” Jared says. “That last mission we did, where we found that equipment all shot up? We didn’t understand the implications of what we were seeing, but I think Misha did.”
“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “We should get him in to go over all of this with us and decide how to handle it. By the way, who is Castiel?”
A strange look comes over Jared’s face. “Oh. You know about Castiel?”
Jensen shrugs. “Misha may have mentioned him. He said I wasn’t ready to meet him yet.”
Jared nods. “Castiel is Misha’s twin, but uh, well, he’s something between a conjoined twin and a parasitic twin. He’s basically a head and two arms growing out of Misha’s front. But he has a brain. He’s actually pretty smart, if a little, uh, odd.”
“Huh,” is the only thing that Jensen can think of to say.
He meets Castiel later that day, when he brings Misha in to discuss how to handle the revelations about Morgan Corp. He appoints Misha to the role of Chief Strategy Adviser and he makes Jared his Chief of Staff. Jensen’s father and Amanda Tapping are also present at the meeting. They approve of Jared’s appointment, but they’re not quite sure what to make of Misha; and to say they’re shocked and horrified by Castiel would be an epic understatement.
Castiel is very like Misha. His eyes are a more vivid blue and his hair is a little messier, but he has the same penetrating stare. He smiles beatifically at Jensen, and when he speaks his voice is deep and gravelly.
“Hello, Dean,” he says.
Jensen’s eyebrows shoot up. “My name’s Jensen.”
“Oh,” Castiel frowns. “My mistake,” he peers intently at Jensen. “I see Dean within you,” he says finally.
Misha just shrugs.
Between the five of them-or six if you include Castiel which Misha, Jensen and Jared do and Alan and Amanda don’t-they thrash out a response to Morgan Corp’s duplicity.
“Okay,” Jensen says, at some sickeningly early hour of the next morning. “We’re happy with this?” he yawns and rubs the grit from his eyes. “We make these changes to Martian law and then I go on the holovision and make this speech? All those in favor?”
Everyone at the table raises a hand.
Jensen has chosen a neat, casual outfit for his public appearance. A light purple button down shirt, worn open at the neck, without a tie, and a pair of tight blue jeans which, according to Jared, make his ass look fantastic. Jensen figures that’s pretty irrelevant though; aside from the moment he walks to the lectern, his ass isn’t going to be on view.
The lectern and the cameras to record his speech have been set up in the Spaceport Arrivals Hall, because it’s the biggest open space they have in the Dome complex.
From the Customs office where he’s waiting, Jensen can hear the constant hubbub of a large crowd and his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s not the public speaking that he’s nervous about; it’s the possibility that his words might trigger a civil war.
Amanda Tapping touches his arm. “They’re ready for you,” she says.
When Jensen steps out of the office, flanked by Tapping, his father, Jared and Misha, the noise level begins to taper off. By the time he’s at the lectern, you could hear a pin drop.
He puts his notes down on the lectern and takes a deep breath.
“Good morning everyone. Thank you for coming. I come before you today with good news. And with bad. Firstly, we have confirmed that Jeffrey Dean Morgan has sought sanctuary on Titan. Efforts are under way to extradite him to face trial for his crimes against the people of Mars. He will also face corporate fraud charges. I won’t go into those in detail here as I feel the charges he faces for killing and trying to kill so many of us here on Mars are of greater importance,” Jensen tries to keep his face from twisting in irritation because the President is far more concerned about the fact that Morgan Corp has been ripping off the government of the Unified Territories for generations and essentially holding them hostage by controlling the supply of turbinium ore. “Suffice to say,” Jensen continues, “there are accounting irregularities in the Morgan Corp books. The full extent of Morgan Corp’s duplicity is, however, only now coming to light. Yesterday, my Chief of Staff, Jared Padalecki, came to me with a very disturbing set of photographs and documents,” he nods at Misha who begins the slide show.
“What you are looking at is the original terra forming equipment that the first colonists brought with them to Mars. You will all be familiar with the story of how it was tragically damaged during the landing and how Morgan Corp scientists subsequently discovered that the original scientific readings obtained prior to colonisation were wrong anyway; that the atmosphere on Mars was too thin to provide adequate protection from the sun’s radiation, even after terra forming. They advised that the equipment was damaged beyond repair and that it wasn’t worth the expense of trying to replace the damaged equipment as the degree to which Mars could be made Earthlike, would still not be sufficient to allow it to sustain life. They recommended that Mars should remain a small mining colony, rather than a potential relocation site for the citizens of Earth who were living in places that were rapidly becoming uninhabitable.”
The crowd is murmuring and Jensen nods. “I can tell that some of you have already recognized the laser blasting marks on the equipment. And yes, your suspicions are correct,” Misha shows the next slide, a Morgan Corp internal memo.
“Morgan Corp deliberately sabotaged the terra forming equipment and falsified their scientific data,” Jensen says gravely, “not because Mars can’t be terra formed, but because they didn’t want it to be terra formed. Could you zoom in on that memo please Misha?” Jensen pauses while Misha does as he’s asked. “I think Morgan Corp can explain it to you themselves.”
Jensen reads the highlighted section of the internal memo, “Repeated tests show that the process of terra forming will remove eighty percent of the turbinium ore from the Martian soil and although the remaining twenty percent would provide a yield of a little over 87.6 billion tonnes worth of economically recoverable ore, the reduction in profits would have a significant impact on shareholder returns. As our first duty of care is to our shareholders, it is best that we do everything we can to prevent the terra forming of Mars, no matter how regrettable this may turn out to be for the citizens of Earth who will soon be living in inhospitable zones and who are hoping to relocate before their lives become unsustainable.”
The outcry is instant and furious and privately, Jensen thinks it’s a lucky thing for them that he’s already had Morgan Corp’s senior executives arrested.
Jensen holds his hands up, palms out and speaks loudly, over the top of the angry rumblings. “People of Mars,” he says, “I said I had good news today too and here it is. Our engineers have examined the old terra forming equipment and it is repairable. We have already started to repair and upgrade it. We will be commencing the process of transforming Mars from a barren, inhospitable red planet into a liveable blue green planet within months. We won’t see it in our lifetimes, but our great, great grandchildren will walk upon the grassy surface of this planet, breathing the air, feeling rain fall on their faces, growing an abundance of crops and not having to worry about air, water or food rationing.”
There is an almighty cheer from the crowd and Jensen smiles briefly.
“We are also revoking Morgan Corp’s one thousand year mining license. From now on the only party authorized to mine turbinium ore will be the newly formed Mars Collective, which every citizen of Mars automatically has shares in. It will be headed up by Jim Beaver and Steve Williams. We’re not going to be exporting as much turbinium in the future and we don’t expect to make Morgan Corp level profits, but we’ll still make a sizeable income.”
“What does the President on Earth have to say about this?” someone shouts from the crowd.
Jensen shrugs and stares straight into the camera. “I’m sure we’re going to find out in a few hours; this is being broadcast directly to Earth. Hopefully he’ll be pleased that we’re creating a potential sanctuary for the people of Earth here on Mars; we all know that Earth is well overdue for another round of devastating earthquakes and tsunamis and that more of the farmable land is being lost to storm-caused erosion every year. But if Earth is desperate for more turbinium ore than we are willing to provide, there are also Morgan Corp memos saying that they found large deposits of the stuff on Saturn’s moon Rhea, but that the cost of mining it would have a serious impact on profits, so they weren’t going to bother. Now that Mars is no longer an option for them, maybe Morgan Corp will start mining on Rhea. Or maybe someone else will beat them to it,” Jensen shrugs and rubs a hand across his chin. “Or maybe Earth will put some serious funding into renewable energy sources, like the scientific community has been urging them to for hundreds of years. Maybe after all this, they will finally realize that there are things more important than corporate profits and that protecting the corporates and allowing them so much power is never good for the people.”
There’s another huge cheer from the crowd and Jensen is stunned when people start chanting his name. He turns and urges Jared to his side, sliding an arm around his waist and then pulling him close.
“Couldn’t have done it without this man,” he says. “So I hope no-one’s going to object when we change the marriage laws on Mars,” he leans up to kiss his man and the cheering escalates.
Jared returns the kiss enthusiastically and Jensen is suddenly very happy that there’s a lectern in front of him, because the kiss has left him painfully hard.
Jared pulls back and smiles down at him proudly. “So,” he says, “we saved the people, we created a better world, you get to rule a planet and you definitely get the boy. What next?”
Jensen is struck by a chilling thought and his face falls. “What if this is all just a dream?” he says. “A Déjà Vu fantasy like the one I paid for?”
Jared laughs, a full, throaty laugh that does interesting things to Jensen’s libido. “Well then,” he whispers, breath hot against Jensen’s ear, “I guess you better take me to bed quick and fuck me good before you wake up.”
He kisses Jensen again, hard and deep, and Jensen decides that if this is a dream, he never, ever wants to wake up.
The End
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Return to MasterPost
The room has a lot of electronic equipment, some medical equipment and several black vinyl gurneys with straps and manacles. Jensen recognizes Dr James Stuart immediately. They knew each other vaguely when Jensen worked out of this building as an intelligence officer and they met again the first time Jensen was reprogrammed. Jensen has never liked him. He’s a smarmy corporate ladder-climber and almost definitely a sociopath.
The other man and woman in the room, Jensen doesn’t recognize. They’re both wearing white lab coats like Stuart though, so he guesses they’re part of the reprogramming team, although why Morgan has decided to reprogram him again, especially after the last failure, is puzzling. And didn’t Morgan outright say he was going to kill them?
Stuart grins, his trademark toothy sneer, and tells the security officers to strap his patients down.
Jensen fights with everything he has in him. He manages to stomp on insteps, knee groins and headbutt faces, but there are too many people holding him, too many people wrestling him onto the gurney, too many people strapping him down. He’s vaguely aware of Jared trying to fight off his own group of security people and a small part of his brain notes that Jared doesn’t appear to be fighting very hard.
When they’re both strapped down, Morgan comes and stands over Jensen, his expression smooth and serene.
“I was going to kill you both,” he says. “But then I figured that was just too easy.” He puts an arm around Stuart. “Dr Stuart and I have cooked up something really fitting for both of you,” Morgan looks at his watch again. “I’ll let him explain it all to you. I have an ambassador to expel from Mars.”
Jensen watches Morgan leave, taking his security team with him.
Dr Stuart begins to fit a skull cap full of wires to Jensen’s head.
“So let me tell you what we’ve got planned for you this time,” Stuart says conversationally, his thin lips twisted and his eyes narrow and beady. The man has resting sneer-face and Jensen remembers wanting to punch the smug out of him the very first time he met Dr James Stuart. That hasn’t changed.
“We’re going to reprogram you both as sex slaves,” Stuart says gleefully. “Fill your minds with memories of being cruelly used since your teen years, and then we’re going to sell you to the slave dungeons on Titan where you’ll be fucked and beaten and otherwise tortured to death within a few short years.” He smiles, lips pressed together and wide eyes filled with cruel delight. “So you see, you still die. It just takes longer and before you go, you’ll think your whole life has been one of pain and misery.” Stuart manages to look supremely happy about this and Jensen glowers and tries to think of something cutting to say.
Before he can, Jared speaks. “Undo all the straps,” he says, and the lab coat who’s been attending to him, does exactly that, freeing Jared’s head, then both of his arms.
“What are you-?” Stuart’s confused question is cut short when Jared uses a freed arm to break the lab coat’s neck.
“Shit. You’re a fucking psychic,” Stuart lunges for the panic button, but Jared reaches out a hand (an unnecessary gesture, but Jared claims it helps him focus his energy) and uses the power of his mind to pin Stuart in place. He calmly undoes the manacles around his feet and climbs off the gurney. The woman by the bank of electronics is frozen in place, whether in fear or because Jared is holding her immobile too, Jensen can’t tell. Jared instructs her to climb onto the gurney he’s just vacated and then he straps her down, before hurriedly unstrapping Jensen.
Dr Stuart takes advantage of his distraction to make another lunge for the panic button. Jensen grabs the nearest thing to hand, which just so happens to be some kind of sharp-edged probe that looks a little like a thigh bone, and stabs it into Stuart’s neck. Arterial blood sprays out sideways making a pretty pattern on the wall and Stuart gurgles and sneers and crumples to the floor.
Stuart keeps a pistol in his desk drawer and Jensen helps himself to it before they leave. He takes a scalpel too and slips it into the top pocket of his overalls.
There are two guards outside the door and Jared mind-whammies them before they can react to the sudden appearance of the two guys who should be strapped to gurneys right now.
“Which way?” Jared asks Jensen, and Jensen touches his i-band and brings up a holomap of the building.
The one good thing to come out of their capture is the fact that they are now inside the very building they needed to be in, and they got in without having to fight or con their way inside.
They pass a couple of people in the corridors, but no-one whose hackles are raised by a couple of maintenance guys walking purposefully down a hallway.
There are two guards outside the satellite control room and Jared gives them a big friendly, “Hey there, fellas,” and then puts them both in a trance.
Jensen sees beads of sweat running down the side of Jared’s face and when Jared wipes at his nose, his hand comes away bloody.
“Jared?” Jensen says, his voice concern and warning in one.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jared says. “I’m being careful. I’m trying to give us as much time as I can, but I’m conserving my energy too.”
The thing with mind-whammying, as Jared calls it, is that it wears off. There’s not a single psychic who can make a mind-whammy last for longer than twelve hours and whatever delusions they’ve implanted or memories they’ve tampered with, it won’t last through the subject falling asleep, which seems to act like some kind of brain re-set. The longer Jared makes the delusion or the memory loss last, the more of a toll it takes on him, hence the nose-bleed. At its worst, he can pass out and they really don’t have time for that.
The four staff inside the satellite control room are all unarmed civilians and they’re able to take care of them the old-fashioned way; Jensen points his gun at them and tells them all to move to the back of the room and not to try to be heroes. The staff are all very obedient as they’re tied up and locked inside a large spare parts cupboard.
“Okay,” Jensen pulls the scalpel from his pocket and hands it to Jared. “Let’s do this.”
He unbuttons his overalls and pulls his arms out, letting the top part drop to the floor. He then undoes a few more buttons until he can get at his hip.
“It’s here,” he says, pointing at the flesh just down from his hipbone.
Jared nods and tells him to turn around and brace himself against the wall. He does as he’s told and a moment later Jared’s hands are on him. Jensen can’t help his sharp intake of breath-Jared’s hands on his ass will never fail to turn him on-and the bite of the scalpel is a welcome distraction.
“Got it,” Jared says, holding up a bloodied chip.
Jensen takes it from him and wipes it off. “Alright,” he says with a grin. “Show time!”
He touches his i-band. “We’re in, Charlie.”
Felicia tells him where to put the chip and talks him through infecting the stand-alone computer system with a virus that will cause the MRA’s footage to play on a continuous loop that none of the Morgan Corp techs will be able to stop. Then she talks him through the process of setting up a broadcast.
“Alright,” she says finally. “We’re set. Go ahead, Jensen. Make history.”
Jensen switches on the system’s i-cam and speaks into it, the camera focused on his eyes only. “Do not attempt to adjust your set,” he says. “This is an MRA Video bulletin. The cable hack will last as long as we want it to. We cannot be traced, we cannot be stopped and we are the only free voice left on this planet. What you are about to see is conclusive proof the Governor Jeff Morgan and his people cut off the air supply to Venusville today and that they cut off the air supply to Morganville eight months ago, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people whose only crime was to be injured in a mining accident caused by Morgan’s greed and failure to adhere to safety standards. Morgan can’t be allowed to remain Governor of Mars and we are calling for his immediate removal and for charges to be brought against him. Thank you for your attention.”
He starts to broadcast the MRA footage. They have interviews with survivors of Morgan’s attempt to wipe out the people of Venusville, and interviews with the people who the MRA rescued when he cut off Morganville’s air, as well as footage showing that the air supply into Venusville had been deliberately stopped by the control room. It’s damning stuff and not only do they transmit it to Earth, they set it up to broadcast on every holo-screen, every flat-screen and every i-band on Mars.
Jensen lets the satellite control room staff out of the cupboard. “Y’all might want to see this,” he says, and switches on a flat screen monitor.
The security officers outside are still dazed and Jared and Jensen relieve them of their weapons and their uniforms and send them inside to watch the broadcast. Jared’s uniform is far too tight across his shoulders and is going to tear the moment he sees any action. The trousers are ridiculously short too, but they have a big hem, which Jared tears down. Jensen’s counting on things being too chaotic for a senior officer to pull him up for uniform violations.
“Your dad?” Jared says, when he’s as ready as he’s going to be, and Jensen nods.
Things are chaotic.
They narrowly avoid a squad of security officers on their way to the satellite control room. It’s too late for them to do anything anyway; there are probably only four people in the known universe capable of reversing the virus that Felicia had Jensen upload onto the satellite’s computer system, and not a one of them would lift a finger to help Morgan Corp. The only way to knock out the broadcast now is to knock out the satellite. Which Morgan may well do, but the message has already gone out to Earth, and that would only make him look even guiltier.
Everywhere they look there are clumps of people gathered around flatscreens, i-band holos and holo-stages, watching the broadcast with worried expressions. Most people in the Upper Dome didn’t know the full extent of Morgan Corp’s evil, but they didn’t care too much either. So long as they were given plausible explanations for the evil, the profits kept flowing and their lives stayed comfortable and privileged, they were happy. Now that plausible deniability has been thrown out the window, it will be interesting to see how people react.
Jared and Jensen make their way to the Ambassador’s residence, which has been completely trashed; the wall paintings are skewed, the furniture upturned and the sculptures are all smashed.
They don’t find Morgan, but they do find Alan Ackles. He and his staff appear from inside the panic room where they’d locked themselves as soon as they saw Morgan returning with a squad of security officers.
“We’ve been watching your broadcast,” Alan says proudly.
Kim Rhodes and Mama Kane come and hug Jensen hard. “You should’ve seen Morgan,” Kim says. “We were watching him and his guys on the CCTV in the panic room. When he got word about your escape and the broadcast, he lost it. Had a real temper tantrum.”
Jensen figures that explains the smashed sculptures and upturned furniture.
“What’s your plan from here?” Alan asks.
Jensen looks at Jared and shrugs. “Actually,” he says, “this is as far as the plan went. I guess we sneak back home and wait to see what happens.”
Alan shakes his head. “You can’t give Morgan any opportunity to regain control. Things are unstable now; it’s time to really upset the apple cart.”
“How do we do that?” Jared asks.
“Amanda Tapping,” Alan says.
“Who?” Jared asks.
“Director of the Mars Intelligence Agency,” Jensen says. “My former boss.” He turns to his father. “You really think she’d help?”
“Oh yes,” Alan nods. “Morgan may be Governor of Mars, but Amanda’s loyalties lie with the President of the Unified Territories. She’ll be happy to make Morgan the fall guy if it will make the President look better in the eyes of the voters.”
To say that Jeffrey Dean Morgan is surprised when his own security forces arrest him would be something of an understatement. He goes red, then puce and finally white. He splutters and shouts, but gives in rather easily in the end. It’s a little anti-climactic and Jensen is disappointed. He expected the man who came so close to ruining his life to go out with something bigger than a whimper.
Of course, it turns out that Morgan has a backup plan; a couple of security officers who are still loyal to him, and he manages to escape custody and get off-planet within hours of his arrest. Rumor has it that he’s gone to Titan, where his good friend Mark Shepherd is Governor. If the stories about the slave dungeons of Titan are true, then Mark’s nickname, the King of Hell, is well-deserved.
The security officers in the Pyramid Mine and the MRA both stand down and the mine workers are taken to the New Dome to reunite with their families. Work begins immediately on reattaching the New Dome to the Old Dome.
The power vacuum on Mars that follows Morgan’s departure sees the Upper Dome establishment jockeying for position. The MRA are demanding a seat at the table too and tensions are high. Mars is a mess. Production in the mine halts completely for the first time ever (for real…Morgan had ‘shut down production’ before, but had never actually stopped mining) and there is panic on Earth. Morgan had been shipping only small quantities of turbinium ore to Earth for years, telling everyone that the mine was nearly empty, that excavation costs were expensive, that the process was time consuming. As a result, the Homeworld has virtually no reserves and barely enough turbinium to sustain their power and fuel needs from month to month.
The Upper Dome establishment and the MRA blame each other for the production halt.
As someone with a foot in both worlds, Jensen finds himself doing a lot of politicking. It’s not something he enjoys, but he turns out to be surprisingly good at it. Jared does a lot of background work, reading minds, soothing ruffled feathers, chatting to the Upper Dome servants who are frequently far more forthcoming with the truth than their employers. Through them he discovers Morgan’s very large, very secret stockpile of turbinium ore. Jensen orders the bulk of it shipped to Earth. He’s beyond shocked when the President appoints him interim Governor of Mars.
At least he knows he has the local Ambassador’s backing.
Jensen and Jared move into Morgan’s old residence and Jensen misses their yali like a severed limb. Morgan’s place is ostentatious and pretentious and nothing about it feels homey. Jared hates it. And they’re barely getting to spend any time together, thanks to the fucking needs of State.
Jensen gets home very late one night after a truly frustrating meeting with the Breathable Air Committee who are throwing up all sorts of obstacles to Jensen’s proposal that oxygen rationing be evenly split between all three Dome levels instead of predominantly borne by the Lower Dome. He’s seriously thinking about taking his gun to the next meeting and he needs Jared to talk him out of it.
Jared is sacked out in their bed, fast asleep. He looks pale, and if the wad of Kleenexes in the trashcan in the bathroom is any indication, he had a killer nose-bleed earlier.
As hard as Jensen’s been working lately, Jared has been working equally as hard. He just hasn’t been getting the same degree of credit that Jensen has, because the establishment, both here on Mars and on Earth, don’t know quite how to deal with Jared. For a start, he’s a mutant. And a psychic. He’s also the male partner of the interim governor and no-one is quite sure how to treat him. They certainly can’t picture him as the First Lady, that’s for sure. Jensen snorts softly to himself. The establishment is still horrendously sexist and homophobic, both problems he’s going to have to deal with sooner rather than later.
Jensen strips down to his shorts and slips quietly into bed beside Jared, who stretches, his eyes blinking open. “Hi,” he says, soft and sleepy.
Jensen puts a hand to his face and cups his cheek. “Hi,” he says. “You okay, man?”
“Tired,” Jared says. He rolls onto his side, facing Jensen, and props his head up on his hand. “But not too tired,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
It’s been far too long since they were able to spend some quality time together. Lately, it’s been all quick and dirty hand jobs as they fall exhausted into bed or, if they’re really lucky, the occasional blow job in the shower. Jensen misses being able to spread Jared out on the bed beneath him and take him to pieces slowly, with fingers and lips and tongue.
Despite his fatigue, Jensen desperately wants to sink his teeth into the flesh of Jared’s broad back, and his dick deep into his tight ass. But. He stifles a yawn and then says, “I saw the kleenexes in the trashcan.” He tries not to make it an accusation.
Jared sighs and rolls onto his back. “Some of these guys have pretty decent blocks in. But,” he hesitates. “I think I’m onto something big. I’m gonna go through all Morgan’s private computer files tomorrow and then…if I’m right, it could change everything.”
“Tell me,” Jensen says, but Jared shakes his head.
“If I’m right,” he says. “If I find what I think I’m going to find.”
Jensen wants to argue, but decides there are probably better things he could be doing with his lips and tongue. He rolls on top of Jared and is pleased when he finds that Jared is naked. Jared spreads his legs, his eyes heating up and his cock filling rapidly and Jensen tugs his own shorts off with one hand and tries not to knee Jared in the balls while he’s doing it. They both end up giggling and Jensen puts his hand on Jared’s chest to feel the vibrations. It’s been a while since they laughed. It feels good. And the fond way that Jared is looking up at him feels good too.
“I love you,” he says, because apparently he’s turned into a giant sap.
“I know,” Jared says. Well, he is psychic. “I love you too.” He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a pot of salve. “You wanna show me just how much you love me?”
And yeah, Jensen really, really does.
The next morning, there’s a very definite hitch in Jared’s step and he lowers himself carefully to sit at the breakfast table. Jensen can’t help his self-satisfied grin.
“Asshole,” Jared says mildly.
Jensen’s grin only broadens.
He’s in a meeting with the Morgan Corp Board who are demanding compensation for the halt to production and the loss of mining revenue, when Jared pushes his way into the boardroom, with a nervous receptionist running behind him, telling him he can’t go in.
“Come in, Jared,” Jensen glares at the receptionist until she pales and goes away.
Jared stalks to the board table and takes an empty seat. His shoulders and neck are tense, but Jensen thinks you’d have to know Jared really well to appreciate just how angry he is right now.
Jared throws a file down on the table and looks at the Morgan Corp board members one by one. “Anyone like to guess what’s in that file?” he asks.
The board members all stare at the table.
“In this file,” Jared says, “is proof that when the first colonists arrived on Mars, Morgan Corp deliberately sabotaged the terra forming equipment and faked its atmospheric test results to discourage future terra forming. I particularly like the line where the CFO at the time,” he stares at the current Chief Financial Officer, “your great, great grandfather, I believe, states in his report, and I quote: ‘The duty we have to our shareholders to maximise their profits far outweighs the duty we have to provide the citizens of Earth with a safe alternative planet.’ I bet the 12.3 million people who died in the ’97 tsunami,” Jared’s tone is brittle, “died happy, knowing your Goddamn profits didn’t suffer!”
“Look,” Demore Barnes begins in a tone that’s probably supposed to be placating, but fall short by several miles. Barnes is Morgan’s replacement as CEO and he’s still pissed that he didn’t get the Governorship of Mars too, like every other Morgan Corp CEO ever has. The President had learned that lesson though; it’s far too much power to have in the hands of one person. “I know you’re new at this, but what you have to understand-”
And Jensen’s just done. “Get out,” he says, his voice deceptively calm.
Barnes turns to him. “Governor Ackles-”
He shuts up fast when Jensen places a gun on the table. “I said,” Jensen repeats, not even raising his eyes from the table. “Get out.”
There’s shuffling and footsteps and the door opening and closing and then it’s quiet in the room, save for the sound of his own breathing. He looks up to make sure that Jared is still in the room. He is.
“Show me,” he says, and Jared moves to Jensen’s end of the table and shows him everything he’s found. “I think Misha suspected,” Jared says. “That last mission we did, where we found that equipment all shot up? We didn’t understand the implications of what we were seeing, but I think Misha did.”
“Yeah,” Jensen nods. “We should get him in to go over all of this with us and decide how to handle it. By the way, who is Castiel?”
A strange look comes over Jared’s face. “Oh. You know about Castiel?”
Jensen shrugs. “Misha may have mentioned him. He said I wasn’t ready to meet him yet.”
Jared nods. “Castiel is Misha’s twin, but uh, well, he’s something between a conjoined twin and a parasitic twin. He’s basically a head and two arms growing out of Misha’s front. But he has a brain. He’s actually pretty smart, if a little, uh, odd.”
“Huh,” is the only thing that Jensen can think of to say.
He meets Castiel later that day, when he brings Misha in to discuss how to handle the revelations about Morgan Corp. He appoints Misha to the role of Chief Strategy Adviser and he makes Jared his Chief of Staff. Jensen’s father and Amanda Tapping are also present at the meeting. They approve of Jared’s appointment, but they’re not quite sure what to make of Misha; and to say they’re shocked and horrified by Castiel would be an epic understatement.
Castiel is very like Misha. His eyes are a more vivid blue and his hair is a little messier, but he has the same penetrating stare. He smiles beatifically at Jensen, and when he speaks his voice is deep and gravelly.
“Hello, Dean,” he says.
Jensen’s eyebrows shoot up. “My name’s Jensen.”
“Oh,” Castiel frowns. “My mistake,” he peers intently at Jensen. “I see Dean within you,” he says finally.
Misha just shrugs.
Between the five of them-or six if you include Castiel which Misha, Jensen and Jared do and Alan and Amanda don’t-they thrash out a response to Morgan Corp’s duplicity.
“Okay,” Jensen says, at some sickeningly early hour of the next morning. “We’re happy with this?” he yawns and rubs the grit from his eyes. “We make these changes to Martian law and then I go on the holovision and make this speech? All those in favor?”
Everyone at the table raises a hand.
Jensen has chosen a neat, casual outfit for his public appearance. A light purple button down shirt, worn open at the neck, without a tie, and a pair of tight blue jeans which, according to Jared, make his ass look fantastic. Jensen figures that’s pretty irrelevant though; aside from the moment he walks to the lectern, his ass isn’t going to be on view.
The lectern and the cameras to record his speech have been set up in the Spaceport Arrivals Hall, because it’s the biggest open space they have in the Dome complex.
From the Customs office where he’s waiting, Jensen can hear the constant hubbub of a large crowd and his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s not the public speaking that he’s nervous about; it’s the possibility that his words might trigger a civil war.
Amanda Tapping touches his arm. “They’re ready for you,” she says.
When Jensen steps out of the office, flanked by Tapping, his father, Jared and Misha, the noise level begins to taper off. By the time he’s at the lectern, you could hear a pin drop.
He puts his notes down on the lectern and takes a deep breath.
“Good morning everyone. Thank you for coming. I come before you today with good news. And with bad. Firstly, we have confirmed that Jeffrey Dean Morgan has sought sanctuary on Titan. Efforts are under way to extradite him to face trial for his crimes against the people of Mars. He will also face corporate fraud charges. I won’t go into those in detail here as I feel the charges he faces for killing and trying to kill so many of us here on Mars are of greater importance,” Jensen tries to keep his face from twisting in irritation because the President is far more concerned about the fact that Morgan Corp has been ripping off the government of the Unified Territories for generations and essentially holding them hostage by controlling the supply of turbinium ore. “Suffice to say,” Jensen continues, “there are accounting irregularities in the Morgan Corp books. The full extent of Morgan Corp’s duplicity is, however, only now coming to light. Yesterday, my Chief of Staff, Jared Padalecki, came to me with a very disturbing set of photographs and documents,” he nods at Misha who begins the slide show.
“What you are looking at is the original terra forming equipment that the first colonists brought with them to Mars. You will all be familiar with the story of how it was tragically damaged during the landing and how Morgan Corp scientists subsequently discovered that the original scientific readings obtained prior to colonisation were wrong anyway; that the atmosphere on Mars was too thin to provide adequate protection from the sun’s radiation, even after terra forming. They advised that the equipment was damaged beyond repair and that it wasn’t worth the expense of trying to replace the damaged equipment as the degree to which Mars could be made Earthlike, would still not be sufficient to allow it to sustain life. They recommended that Mars should remain a small mining colony, rather than a potential relocation site for the citizens of Earth who were living in places that were rapidly becoming uninhabitable.”
The crowd is murmuring and Jensen nods. “I can tell that some of you have already recognized the laser blasting marks on the equipment. And yes, your suspicions are correct,” Misha shows the next slide, a Morgan Corp internal memo.
“Morgan Corp deliberately sabotaged the terra forming equipment and falsified their scientific data,” Jensen says gravely, “not because Mars can’t be terra formed, but because they didn’t want it to be terra formed. Could you zoom in on that memo please Misha?” Jensen pauses while Misha does as he’s asked. “I think Morgan Corp can explain it to you themselves.”
Jensen reads the highlighted section of the internal memo, “Repeated tests show that the process of terra forming will remove eighty percent of the turbinium ore from the Martian soil and although the remaining twenty percent would provide a yield of a little over 87.6 billion tonnes worth of economically recoverable ore, the reduction in profits would have a significant impact on shareholder returns. As our first duty of care is to our shareholders, it is best that we do everything we can to prevent the terra forming of Mars, no matter how regrettable this may turn out to be for the citizens of Earth who will soon be living in inhospitable zones and who are hoping to relocate before their lives become unsustainable.”
The outcry is instant and furious and privately, Jensen thinks it’s a lucky thing for them that he’s already had Morgan Corp’s senior executives arrested.
Jensen holds his hands up, palms out and speaks loudly, over the top of the angry rumblings. “People of Mars,” he says, “I said I had good news today too and here it is. Our engineers have examined the old terra forming equipment and it is repairable. We have already started to repair and upgrade it. We will be commencing the process of transforming Mars from a barren, inhospitable red planet into a liveable blue green planet within months. We won’t see it in our lifetimes, but our great, great grandchildren will walk upon the grassy surface of this planet, breathing the air, feeling rain fall on their faces, growing an abundance of crops and not having to worry about air, water or food rationing.”
There is an almighty cheer from the crowd and Jensen smiles briefly.
“We are also revoking Morgan Corp’s one thousand year mining license. From now on the only party authorized to mine turbinium ore will be the newly formed Mars Collective, which every citizen of Mars automatically has shares in. It will be headed up by Jim Beaver and Steve Williams. We’re not going to be exporting as much turbinium in the future and we don’t expect to make Morgan Corp level profits, but we’ll still make a sizeable income.”
“What does the President on Earth have to say about this?” someone shouts from the crowd.
Jensen shrugs and stares straight into the camera. “I’m sure we’re going to find out in a few hours; this is being broadcast directly to Earth. Hopefully he’ll be pleased that we’re creating a potential sanctuary for the people of Earth here on Mars; we all know that Earth is well overdue for another round of devastating earthquakes and tsunamis and that more of the farmable land is being lost to storm-caused erosion every year. But if Earth is desperate for more turbinium ore than we are willing to provide, there are also Morgan Corp memos saying that they found large deposits of the stuff on Saturn’s moon Rhea, but that the cost of mining it would have a serious impact on profits, so they weren’t going to bother. Now that Mars is no longer an option for them, maybe Morgan Corp will start mining on Rhea. Or maybe someone else will beat them to it,” Jensen shrugs and rubs a hand across his chin. “Or maybe Earth will put some serious funding into renewable energy sources, like the scientific community has been urging them to for hundreds of years. Maybe after all this, they will finally realize that there are things more important than corporate profits and that protecting the corporates and allowing them so much power is never good for the people.”
There’s another huge cheer from the crowd and Jensen is stunned when people start chanting his name. He turns and urges Jared to his side, sliding an arm around his waist and then pulling him close.
“Couldn’t have done it without this man,” he says. “So I hope no-one’s going to object when we change the marriage laws on Mars,” he leans up to kiss his man and the cheering escalates.
Jared returns the kiss enthusiastically and Jensen is suddenly very happy that there’s a lectern in front of him, because the kiss has left him painfully hard.
Jared pulls back and smiles down at him proudly. “So,” he says, “we saved the people, we created a better world, you get to rule a planet and you definitely get the boy. What next?”
Jensen is struck by a chilling thought and his face falls. “What if this is all just a dream?” he says. “A Déjà Vu fantasy like the one I paid for?”
Jared laughs, a full, throaty laugh that does interesting things to Jensen’s libido. “Well then,” he whispers, breath hot against Jensen’s ear, “I guess you better take me to bed quick and fuck me good before you wake up.”
He kisses Jensen again, hard and deep, and Jensen decides that if this is a dream, he never, ever wants to wake up.
The End
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