Unethical Disclaimer: This story features the Thunderbolts, who are trademarks of Marvel Comics, just like everybody else in this story. Except Fast Lane. That one’s all me. This is an unauthorized work and no profit is being made off this work. Download this story if you like, but please don’t archive without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Mental Note: This story is the sequel to “Sounding Board” (If you haven’t read it, ask.), which takes place five years after the events of THUNDERBOLTS ‘97.

***

I've been watching this unfold for a while now, but I think I'll start here.

It's the impromptu press conference for the aftermath of the latest Sentinel malfunction/invasion of New York. It's a balmy spring morning in the Big Apple, and almost like clockwork, the giant robots' fancy turns to betraying their creators. You'd think people would learn.

Then again, I've found the general majority of people to be almost 95% cliche. They hate and they fear, so give them something big and unassuming, and they pretend they're safe. Never mind that it doesn't work, it's the symbolism that counts.

Of course when the symbolic protection _does_ work, they invariably turn on it, forgetting the warm fuzzy security it used to provide.

"What you're forgetting is that the Sentinels were sabotaged! And we have proof it was done by someone who was involved in their design!"

This had started out as a press conference where Nascent Technologies and Robotics would apologize for the tragic mistake, and they would assert that they would continue to produce only the finest in anti-mutant devices, in spite of what had happened. Then _they_ showed up.

"Nascent is already looking into the matter," the PR man insisted from the platform. "I assure you that our own investigation will uncover the truth."

They aren't impressed, and they begin to advance toward the podium.

"Your truth, maybe," another retorts. Security men worm their way through the crowd to flank the intruders, but they're knocked back by a wave of pink energy. "Take a load off, guys," he says coolly.

"Nascent _knew_ that half of the X-Warriors weren't mutants at all," adds a man who looks like a walking shillouette. "So someone decided that they'd monkey with the Sentinels to weed out mutant _sympathizers_ as well."

"But it worked too well," the first man said, "and they went after anyone who was standing anywhere _near_ a mutant. And _this_", he held up a videotape in a red glove, "shows exactly how it was done, and who did it--"

Before another word can be spoken the entire crowd beings to boo. Expletives are chanted. Middle fingers are extended.

"Why don't you go back to that iceberg, you dumb mutie!"

"How do we know _you_ jerks didn't sabotage the Sentinels?"

"--never shoulda let you into the Avengers anyway!"

And I watch his eyes mist over. He's Captain America, living legend of World War II. Once, people thanked him for defending their country from the Nazi menace decades ago. Once, he put people like me in jails while the masses cheered.

Today, modern genetics reveal he's a mutant. Always had been, always was, always will be. So now he's the most despicable creature in history.

And I can't help but smile. He always pretended that the public opinion never mattered to him, that he was simply doing a job. But in the end he's come face to face with just how fickle his people can be, all over a genetic analysis that would probably become outdated in two years.

The others, though are a little more used to this kind of treatment. In one case, I helped see to that.

"FINE! Maybe you want to turn your backs on one of the greatest heroes who ever lives, and maybe you wanna ignore the truth--shout us down so you don't have to listen to us--but it's still the _truth_! The Sentinels are bad news for everybody! And we'll keep fighting them till you realize that!"

"They're not worth it, Jolt," another girl says calmly. "Let's just get out of here... without throwing up anyway."

"You get out of here, Tabs," Jolt snaps back. "I'm sick of this crap! We just saved this city's collective butt, and they want to mob us!" She squints at the enraged throngs and sighs. "No, you're right. There's nothing we can do here. We may as well--OW!"

The people are throwing rocks now. Nascent picked their location wisely. Jolt starts repelling them with static bursts, and the rest of the X-Warriors begin to tense.

"Demais," the shillouette man mutters. "Now we have to get pelted or hurt a bunch of people to get away." He turned to Captain America. "What's the plan, boss?"

"Everyone, please..." Cap stuttered as a rock bounced off his shield. This wasn't a battlefield he was used to.

"Geez," Jolt shouts, looking up for some avenue of escape, "I never had it this bad, even back when I was on the--the--!"

And suddenly the crowd loses all interest in their would be lynching. They look up to the sky and see it, too. And if that isn't good enough...

"Look alive, Big Crapple!" a speaker booms from a descending aircraft. "'Cause here comes everybody's favorite bunch of guys!"

It hovers in midair and jerks back and forth as its passengers leap out to take the stage. If the boos were loud before they're deafening now.

"That's right, New York, it's your very own, your treasured, beloved THUNDERBOLTS!"

The Nascent representative puts his hand to his face. "Nobody said anything about you people showing up!" he says meekly.

"Do me a favor and go stage diving, kid, you bother me," says the woman with the microphone. Casually she pushes him off the platform into the shocked crowd.

"Now, let's have a big New York welcome for the team that pulled one over on you Hudson River crackheads!" Songbird resumes, waving her free hand to the crowd.

Meanwhile the X-Warriors stand in awe. "Jolt, did you plan this?" asks a scaly creature in a leather jacket.

"No..." Jolt replies. She looks and see the rocks flying towards the new arrivals. "I wish I had, though."

"Thank you, thank you!" Songbird announces, throwing up a force field of sonic energy. "Your participation is a fine opportunity for us to display our ultra-special-super powers! The _same_ powers we used to blow up Four Freedoms Plaza! Remember that, Atlas?"

"Do I?" the big man in red responds. He wills himself to grow to throaty feet, letting the brunt of the projectiles bounce harmlessly off his skin. "Shoot, boss, I think I was the one to push the button!"

"Uh... yeah," a third Thunderbolt plays along. "You know, if I was there, I'd have just spray painted every building in the whole town at super speed!" He races around Atlas and scoops up the stones as they fly. "I mean, why should the subway system have all the fun?"

"What are they doing?" Captain America asks in confusion.

"Arranging a diversion," answers a more subtle figure, this one black with ripples of yellow circuitry on his body. "Please, come with me, X-Warriors."

"Paradigm?" the shillouette man asks. "Last time I saw you, X-Force and the New Warriors were still separate teams. You're running with the T-Bolts, now?"

"I have... experienced much since we last met, Roberto DaCosta," Paradigm explains. "Now, if you will--"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" the scaled man says. "Let's blow this joint!"

"Hey, don't these guys still owe you for the Boston Tea Party, C.V?" Atlas asks.

"They hardly seem able to afford it, Atlas," a woman in purple says cheerily. "I suppose we might consider repossessing the Statue of Liberty, though. It's not as if they ever take proper care of the bloody eyesore!"

"Well, I guess it's time for us to be moving on, folks!" Songbird says to conclude. "Slamdance, if you would?"

The last Thunderbolt nods in agreement and brings her orange boot to the ground, snapping right through the platform on the way. In seconds, the earth begins to shake and a column of ground pushed up, raising the team and their transport far above the infuriated crowd. With that, the five of them fly away, looking down at their handiwork.

"Marks," Songbird snickers.

"How'd Paradigm do?" Atlas asks, pulling a rock out from under a shoulder strap. "I'd hate to think we just pulled that stunt for nothing."

"Nothing, he says," Slamdance repeats. "Did you see the look on their faces, babe? That was a rush, pure and simple!" She slaps Songbird on the shoulder. "Gotta hand it to ya, Mimi, this ain't like the old days! They're better!"

"Glad you liked it, Mary," Songbird says with the same enthusiasm. "But that was just the easy part! Now let's go meet Paradigm at the rendezvous point. C.V.?"

Citizen V turns from her console on the passenger side and looks to Songbird through that domino mask of hers. "Certainly, I've already found our teammate's homing signal."

And soon they're on the ground meeting up with the grateful X-Warriors. Paradigm stands, ready for his next command, surrounded by Captain America, Justice, Rage, Sunspot, Countdown, Gargoyle and, of course, Jolt.

"--really saved our bacon back there," Justice says to Paradigm, and then notices the others approaching. "We figured we could just present our case and let the facts sway them. I guess it didn't work so well."

Vance Astro, the cookie cutter super hero. It's only natural he'd try to spread the blame to cover for someone else's mistake. He probably learned that on a He-Man rerun. No, "we" didn't figure anything. That was all Captain America and his dime store morality. And of course it didn't work. Since when did bigots let stubborn facts stand in their way? The most delicious irony is that Sunspot and Countdown already knew this would happen, but they're too passive to all the ex-Avengers running this little team. Cap and Justice have a lot to learn about being mutants.

"No big deal," Atlas says soothingly. "You'll get 'em next time. I've had my share of defeats, and you learn to deal with it."

What follows is a smattering of random, banal conversations. So I listen in on Songbird and Captain America.

"I don't _believe_ you'd try a thing like that, Cap!" she hisses, hoping to keep the lecture quiet. "You're lucky we showed up, and you're _real_ lucky New York _hates_ the Thunderbolts. If this had been D.C., we'd be sparring with the National Guard by now." Well. Nice to see little Melissa can still show some backbone once in a while.

"I... wanted to believe that they'd hear us out." It's all I can do not to blow my cover. He's on the verge of despair. The best part is that the X-Warriors recruited _him_ for inspiration.

"Look, I know how broken up you are about all this. And I know what you're going through. But you have to understand that this is an uphill battle. You can't afford to expect the best of humanity anymore. The public's not on your side, so learn to use it to your advantage," she says, like a coach in an afterschool special. "Or we can always retire you and put you out to pasture with the other old war-horses."

The Captain smiles. "I think I've got a few good miles left in me, rookie."

"Good," Songbird says, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, I need a favor."

Cap's a predictable man, like almost anyone who's served in the armed forces. Give him a pep talk and he suddenly throws himself back into his work. A little discussion between leaders and soon it's "Jolt, front and center!"

"What is it, Cap?" she asks, clearly thrilled that her idol is back in fighting spirit.

"Effective immediately, you'll be working alongside the Thunderbolts until further notice. I understand it's personal business."

Jolt nods in acknowledgment. I can tell she's not totally thrilled with the prospect, but she knows better than to argue. A quick wave to the others and she climbs aboard the Thunderbolts' Stormbringer.

"Hey, Cap, as long as we're shuffling rosters, can we get Fast Lane on our side?" Countdown asks. "We could use an extra pair of buns--hands! I meant hands. Really."

"Let's stick to business, Warriors," Captain America replies, already back to playing drill sergeant. "We've got a saboteur to stop!"

I leave them to their mission an follow the Thunderbolts back to their headquarters, a quaint little abandoned HYDRA base.

"Now, before we get started," Songbird begins, "There's something, I'd like to do first." She hugs Jolt and pats her on the back a few times for good measure. "Welcome back Hallie," she smiles.

"Yeah, it's been too long, kid." Atlas says, giving the thumbs up. "Hope we ain't crampin' your style too much askin' you to come back and all."

"No. No, it's fine, Atlas," Hallie murmurs. "It's just... well, Cap said it was personal stuff, and well, that could only meant so many things." What I feel, it might be described as pride. I do take some credit for her observational skills.

"Sure, Hallie, I'll get to that in a minute," Songbird hesitates, "but let me introduce everyone first. You know Fast Lane already."

Carlos Sanchez nods in his violet mask. "Hey."

Songbird continues "And since you've been gone, my old Grapplers buddy Poundcakes has joined up under the codename of Slamdance."

"What can I say, I just had to try the T-Bolts makeover," Marian Pouncy says, waving a hand over her yellow and orange costume. "But you know how it goes, right?"

"Sure," Hallie says.

"And that leaves Paradigm and Citizen V, who each petitioned to join the team recently. Of course, I can't get a real name out of either of them, but well, you expect that kind of stuff from the Thunderbolts, huh?"

Citizen V gives a pseudo-military salute, and Paradigm simply stands motionless. "Based on cursory scans," Paradigm says, "your bioelecrtic signature is most intriguing, Jolt. I look forward to working with you."

"Which is as close as a compliment that you can ever get from our techno-organic friend here," Citizen V explained. "He's a tough sort to get used to, but we love him."

Jolt studies the Citizen's uniform, sort of a purple soldier's uniform, complete with a stylized red "V" belt. Essentially, combining facets from all the previous incarnations of Citizen V. "I take it, then, you're not one of the previous female Citizens?"

"I'll own up to that," the masked woman admits. "But beyond that, I can't tell you any more. Let's just say that there are certain parties who would exploit the knowledge of my identity. That, and the Thunderbolts will vouch for me."

"Good enough for me," Jolt says. "So what's the plan?"

"This," Songbird announces, clicking a button on a slide machine to reveal a photo of me. "We're going to search for Moonstone and hopefully bring her in to receive psychiatric treatment."

Fast Lane lets loose a low whistle. "You don't make 'em easy, Songbird."

One of the perks to being able to conceal yourself completely is getting to hear people talk about you behind your back.

"I'm with Carlos on this one, Miss," Citizen V seconds. "Moonstone has serious mental problems. Assuming we can track her down, how do we get her to surrender to the authorities--without dashing the surrounding area to bits in the process?"

"It won't be easy," Songbird confesses. "Let me state that right now. But I think we can pull this off. First, Moonstone recently crashed a reunion I had arranged for the original six Thunderbolts. That's what inspired all this to begin with. I think she was inviting us to try to reign her in.

"Second, there's seven of us against one of her. Moonstone hasn't been associated with anyone in years, excepting her brief rule over Atlantis. And it's doubtful she's ever going back there again. So when we do find her, odds are she'll be alone.

"Third, Atlas, Jolt, and myself are familiar with Moonstone's powers, her tactics, and her personality. We're not experts, I suppose, but when it comes to her, we're the closest thing to it."

Well reasoned, I note. Wrong on all counts, but well reasoned nonetheless. This may be interesting after all.

"Where do we begin?" Paradigm asks.

"The beginning," Songbird answers.

Which leads us to Van Nuys, California, my hometown. Songbird's a competent tactician, to be sure, but at times she borders on the predictable. Assuming I had been looking for _them_, for an ambush or something, it would have been child's play to guess on this approach. They may as well carry a banner that reads "Karla Sofen, this is your life!" And as well as I'm concealed, an ambush would be nearly unstoppable.

But that's not why I'm trailing them.

"I don't get it, boss," Atlas says, mirroring my own thoughts, actually. "What makes you think she'd be here?"

"Call it a hunch, Erik," she answers. "We know she showed up at my house to meet with the other Thunderbolts, so maybe she's retracing her steps. I could imagine why, but it's as good a guess as any."

Ah. She wants to assign a pattern for my recent behavior and follow it to me. Clever, and it might even work. I _am_ here, after all, even if it's not by design. We fly over a restaurant where my mother worked to put me through school. It's changed ownership at least three times, but the memory is still there. This is the place--

"--where she learned to detest subservience," Jolt muses. "Her parents literally worked themselves to death for others and she decided right then and there never to fall into the same trap."

I blink twice. How on earth would she have known that?

"At least, that's what Dr. Samson wrote for her pysch profile," she adds. "And how much of it I'd say is consistent with personal experience."

I swear to myself. The authorities have been putting more attention on updating my records ever since... well, ever since I joined the Thunderbolts for that matter. The difference is that the other ex-con members managed to earn their trust. Me, I was never able to get out from under their microscope. I remember once when Samson didn't even know what to make of me. And I surrounded myself with groups to keep people from noticing me.

"Subservience?" Songbird echoes. "That's ironic, considering that every team she ever joined was at peak performance when she wasn't calling the shots. She nearly ran the T-Bolts into the ground."

Wrong again. The team's still here isn't it? If it weren't for me, you'd have disbanded after Zemo's plot failed. I admit, I was short on direction, but that wasn't what was needed. I united the team, held it together until more qualified people came to take over. And I seem to remember that at the time, you were hardly interested in the position, Melissa. I changed that as well. I set the ball rolling to make the Thunderbolts a family, a pact of mutual security. So even after you left to join the Avengers, you kept coming back to take care of your old team. You felt like you owed them that, for keeping you safe and secure for so long. And it was me who instilled that sense of loyalty for a team of second stringers and starry-eyed crooks. You're welcome.

"Anything, Paradigm?" Fast Lane asks impatiently.

"No, Thunderbolts. My scans detect residual signatures of the moonstone energy, but there is no source to pinpoint. She has been here before, as Moonstone, but not recently."

Songbird sighs. "Well, no sense wasting another minute here. Hang on, gang, we're off to our next stop!"

And with that I have to wonder what she's referring to. After I got out of school, my criminal career began as the gun moll for Dr. Faustus, then attempting to infiltrate Gamma Base. After that, I joined the Corporation and three incarnations of the Masters of Evil. So unless she's planning to double back to ESU after antagonizing all of New York, then there's no where else to go. Faustus is dead, Gamma Base and the Corporation are no more, and the Masters never had permanent headquarters to begin with. When we finally arrive at our destination, though, I realize what she's talking about.

"The Vault. What's left of it anyway," Atlas mutters. "I can't say I ever missed _this_ place. The Stormbringer maneuvers around some twisted girders and rubble. It was a prison for super-powered criminals. When I stole the moonstone from Lloyd Bloch, it was by taking advantage of the limitations of conventional prisons. They couldn't afford to contain him, so they hired me to convince him to surrender his powers. Instead, I conned him into giving them to me, and I became the second Moonstone.

And unfortunately, I spent a lot more of my career here than I'm willing to admit. I suppose Bloch's jailers learned their lesson the first time. The Vault wasn't as escape-proof as its reputation held, but it was secure enough that I decided I'd be better off to live out my sentence. Shortly after Zemo broke me out to recruit me into the Thunderbolts, the entire place was destroyed. It's been remodeled a time or two, but never without getting blasted back into rubble.

"Karla spent her time here in part because she had to hide from Lloyd Bloch, the first Nefarius," Songbird explained. "He's been dead for a while, but maybe she came back here looking for some kind of security."

This time Fast Lane is surveying the area on foot. This place has been deserted for a while, so there's no need to worry about being discovered.
"I dunno, Melissa," Atlas says. "This looks like a longshot to me. Karla may be a little off-balanced, but I don't think she'd come here to be safe. There ain't even two bricks stacked together around here. Besides, if she needed help, why didn't she ask us back at your place?"

"Off-balance is a delicate way of putting it, Atlas," Jolt pipes in. "And it's not like Moonstone to confess a weakness or ask for protection. Part of the advantage of the Vault was that she could always write off the guards and force fields as part of the prison experience."

"Don't forget," Songbird adds, "She didn't exactly get a warm welcome from us then. Zemo was livid that she dared to show her face, and the others weren't terribly pleased either. She might have assumed that we wouldn't have helped."

"I am afraid Atlas' objections are valid," Paradigm interrupts. "I still do not detect Moonstone."

"Me either," Fast Lane says as he returns to the Stormbringer in a blur. "Unless she's underground somehow, and I didn't see any evidence of a tunnel or even ventilation."

"Looks as if she's not here, Songbird," Citizen V shrugs. "Shall we try the next location?"

"She still shoulda asked us, though," Atlas mutters. "She's helped us out of enough jams, it's not like we don't owe her that much."

An awkward silence falls over the rest of the team. Most likely they're considering the irony of that statement. They owe me a lot, but to them it's probably for what I've done _against_ them. I won't pretend that I didn't betray their trust, ruin their reputation, fiddle wit their heads. And for everything I've done for them there's a lot I've done to cancel it out. I truly wonder why they're even going to this much trouble. I'd imagine that half of them tell themselves it's to rid the world of my unchecked menace.

Not Atlas, though. To him it's a simple matter of duty and loyalty. No matter how much Zemo betrayed his trust, he continued to serve him like a dog, and after Zemo he transferred that loyalty to his team. It's served him well, really. All he ever needed was direction. A cause to fight for. Back in his Goliath days he went insane for having astounding power but no reason to use it. And whenever you divide his loyalty, he's paralyzed with indecision.

And this new mission of Songbird's is all that's keeping him together. He can support me and the team at the same time this way. And look at him. He's flying the Stormbringer, a picture of determination and strength. Looking at him, you wouldn't think he was fighting for a team built on a lie, or a criminal considered by everyone else to be beyond reprieve. I'd find his faith in me flattering if I didn't know it was so easily misplaced.

Again, more skips in the grand tour of my life. Songbird makes a brief pass over our old HQ on Mount Chateris, but she decides not to spend much time mulling over team history, since I already visited one lineup of Thunderbolts already. Smart girl, on that one, especially considering I'm with the latest group at this very moment. Hawkeye, too is overlooked, since no one can account for is whereabouts, and there's some suspicion that I might have had something to do with that. Trust me, I want to say to them, I wouldn't have wasted the energy blast. If I know him, he probably went up to Canada shooting at trees for a practice session when his watch stopped and he's been at it ever since. So that brings us to Avengers Mansion for a special quinjet ride to...

"The Moon," Slamdance says breathlessly. "I never figured I'd set foot here. This is--this is... wow."

"I almost forgot how beautiful it is up here," Songbird notes. "I haven't been up here since the Infinity Invasion."

"And Karla hasn't been here since her last attempt to find more special rocs to increase her power," Jolt says, hoping to remind everyone to stick to business. "She tried this once when the Inhumans lived in the Blue area. But when the Watcher moved back in, it's been a tempting target."

Indeed, I found that the Watcher is a lot less defensive of his property. So when I first turned my back on the Thunderbolts, I staged another little expedition to the Blue Area and tried again. It almost worked except--

"Here." Citizen V points to a gravesite on the lunar soil. "Norton Fester, aka Meteor Man, aka the Looter. The Fantastic Four wouldn't have been able to stop her if her traveling companion hadn't used moonstones of his own to match her augmented power. They buried him on the moon to honor his memory."

Fester did more than that. He demonstrated that absorbing too much of the moonstone energy would destabilize a human body and destroy it. I had nearly quadrupled my normal powers, and I had grown to some twenty feet tall in the process. Fester suddenly had a change of heart and used all the remaining stones to stop me. At the last moment he had a heart attack from the strain. Since then I realized that I had to get more power from new sources and I would have to do it alone... or with people I trusted.

"No sign of her here, either," Songbird groans. "This is getting tiresome. I know she wants to be found, but where, and how?"

"Songbird, I simply must protest the aims of this mission you have us on," Citizen V says. "This madwoman has killed before, and will kill again, and you seem convinced that we can simply rescue her from the brink like some forlorn kitten in a tree! Has it occurred to you that she may very well be leading us into a trap?"

"She's a Thunderbolt," Songbird says grimly. "That means I expect the worst from her as well as well as the best at all times." She turns to her teammate and points a finger imperiously. "And that means I expect all of us to do the same."

Citizen V falls silent, but a frown still crosses her masked eyes. I can only wonder who it is this new Citizen hopes to fool. She's a facade, a colorful disguise to cover up the awful truth. A walking lie, just like all the others. The first Citizen V wanted to represent the Polish, despite being from England. The second wanted to convince people he was the heir of a legacy when he was in fact something entirely opposite. The third tried to defend the honor of the original, and she did it by spreading lies and donning the costume of the one who tarnished it in the first place. The name hold only one common denominator: a white lie. Tell people what they want to hear, and smooth over the annoying facts that get in the way. This Citizen is no different. She's desperately trying to be something she's not, and I can't wait until the truth is revealed.

Back on Earth, the search continues, and we come to Atlantis itself. The Thunderbolts have traded in their space gear for undersea equipment, and they stand before the sovereign of the realm.

"My answer is no, Thunderbolts," declares Namor the First, "you may not conduct any search of my kingdom. However, I assure you that the treacherous scoundrel you seek is nowhere within the boundaries of Atlantis."

"May I ask Your Majesty how you are so certain of this?" Songbird petitions the king from beneath his throne. I chuckle inwardly at the hollow arrogance he displays, stating that I'm not here while I stand in the very heart of his palace.

"As you well know, Thunderbolts, the usurper to the throne wore the dreaded Serpent Crown to consolidate her power over Atlantis. I too, however briefly, wore one of the accursed crowns of the elder god Set."

"So you're saying that since all the wearers of the crown are telepathically linked to Set, then Moonstone couldn't enter Atlantis without you being aware of it," Songbird concludes.

"Specifically, she would have to be in possession of the crown," Namor corrects. "And she would not dare to come near this place without the evil power it brings. Even so, my guards are on watch for intruders like her, and there is not a citizen in Atlantis who does not remember the horror she unleashed upon our people."

I can't forget it myself. After I dug up the crown, I underestimated its psychic power. At first I was able to control it, then I was overwhelmed by the influence of Naga, he tyrant who wore the crown longer than anyone else and whose spirit was finally trapped inside forever. I had only intended to rule Atlantis as an isolated kingdom where I could live out my life in contentment, but Naga forced me to initiate the widescale slaughter of their entire race as a sacrifice to Set. Needless to say, the heroes of the surface world responded to Namor's cry for aid, and as soon as I was freed from the Serpent Crown's control, I found myself on the run from every government on the planet. For a while, the Mole Man granted me sanctuary, but it didn't take him long to change his mind.

"Still, I wish you luck in finding and capturing this fiend," Namor announces to the Thunderbolts. "And I would request that when you do find her that you deliver the prisoner to Atlantis to answer for her crimes."

Songbird's brow begins to knit. "That's a tall order, Namor. I'll see what I can do, but ultimately that's for the authorities of the surface world to decide, and you don't have any extradition treaties with them at the moment." Namor begins to frown, and she adds a consolation. "Of course, if you want to reopen relation with the U.N., that's your business, and if you happen to find her first, then she's all yours." Namor cocks an eyebrow in satisfaction, but the look on her face tells me that she doesn't really want that to happen.

Back on the minisub, I decide to listen in on a conversation among the newer members.

"I still don't get this," Fast Lane gripes. "I mean, yeah, I'd want you guys to do the same for me, but this is major league stuff here. She's violated international law, and Missy acts like she knocked over a bank. Meanwhile, we aren't getting anything else done. I signed on to fight crime, not pay back old debts or whatever." He leans a little closer to the table. "Don't get me wrong, but I almost hope the Submariner _does_ find her first."

"You know her better than the rest of us, Mary," Citizen V says to Slamdance, "What's this all about?"

"I don't know. It's like, when we were in the Grapplers together, we were just out to have a few laughs and bust a few heads. And we still do that now, but every once in a while she just gets so... intense. Like she's gotta act like being in charge. Atlas, too. Usually, he's pretty cool to be around, but he's really serious all of a sudden."

"I believe you speak from faulty perspectives," Paradigm suggests. "Fast Lane, you have no criminal record. So it is unlikely that you can wholly sympathize with their relationship. Songbird nearly helped to conquer the world, and yet she was given another chance, thanks in part to Moonstone. So her consideration of Moonstone's past misdeeds are naturally skewed."

Not a bad analysis from a pile of techno-organic material. Fast Lane started out as the Whizzer from the Grandmaster’s "Squadron Surrogate". Later on, he decided to use his powers for heroism, and he joined the Thunderbolts. He's yet to admit it to anyone, but it's clear from my observation that he only joined because he didn't think any other more prestigious team would have him, and he considers the Thunderbolts to be a sort of minor league for him to launch a career. It comes as no surprise that he'd just as soon abandon me.

The once-human looks to Slamdance. "As for you, Slamdance, you knew Songbird some time ago, but you also missed a significant part of her life, in which she earned greater responsibilities. It is entirely possible that Moonstone was partially responsible for that change as well."

Two for two. I remember those times that Slamdance missed, when Songbird talked trash and tried to act tough to hide the fear and insecurity we faced during my tenure as leader. I'm sure that Slamdance tried the same coping mechanism when _she_ first joined, and it was probably jarring to find that the "baby" Grappler had already outgrown it. My guess is that she only joined up to try to relive the old Grappler glory days with her partner (i.e. the scene in Central Park with the X-Warriors), and so she finds it difficult to participate in the standard Thunderbolts business (like dealing with me).

"You seem pretty sure that Moonstone was a contributing factor," Citizen V points out.

"In my own experience," Paradigm says, "I have found that I have adapted and upgraded as a result of increasingly minuscule factors. Even if Moonstone's presence was a minor influence, even a detrimental one, it was an influence nevertheless."

"So what's wrong with my perspective," Citizen V challenges. "I think this whole mission is right foolish. What's my major malfunction?"

Paradigm stares motionlessly. "Insufficient data," he finally replies.

I can field that one. You think objection is the self-righteous thing to do, so you do it, hoping to pass yourself off as something you aren't. Paradigm simply doesn't understand the symbolism of the Citizen V costume to make that observation himself.

So I guess that settles that matter. The Thunderbolts are only looking for me because two of them are too sentimental to let it drop, and the rest are too obedient to do more than complain about it.

Then the final piece of the puzzle walks into the room and greets the others. "I hope you guys don't mind me mooching off you like this," Jolt says as she inches around the table to get to the food store. "Wow, it's been a while since I've been on this sub, huh? I forgot how cramped it gets in here."

"You shoulda been here when Hawkeye got his growing powers back," Fast Lane says cheerily. "Try working with two big guys at once and see how long it takes them to start tripping over each other!"

They all laugh except Paradigm, who probably got the joke anyway.

"So are you doin' OK, kid?" Slamdance asks. "I haven't been here all that long, but I know what Moonstone means to you."

Jolt chuckles quietly. "I appreciate that, but _I_ don't know what she means to me, so I'm not sure anyone else does either."

"I doubt that you wish to discontinue the search," Paradigm points out. "Certainly you at least care about her well-being."

The others look at each other, maybe feeling a little guilty about what they had been saying earlier.

Fast Lane puts a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Hallie, If she's out there, we'll find her."

Jolt nods slowly. "I know," she says.

This is why I came here. I wanted to see her again. More to the point, I wanted to see her on the Thunderbolts one more time. It's a matter of personal pride. What I do, I take a lot of satisfaction in it, and I consider the Thunderbolts one of my finest accomplishments. And I consider Jolt to be the other. I took her under my wing in a sense, molded her into what I wanted her to be: an emotional center for the Thunderbolts. Something to hold them together during the rough periods. That was why I crashed Songbird's little planning session a while back. No one wanted me there, but they should have at least asked Jolt to go in my stead and guide the team. That's what she's for, after all.

But I'm a little disappointed to say the least. Both Jolt and the Thunderbolts are too interested in saving me than they are in being the shining jewel in my career. And I have no interest in being "saved".

"Citizen V," Jolt says, as she casually munches away at some cereal, "Songbird needs you In the control room."

"Oh. Well, certainly, then." The woman in purple stands and Jolt follows her out the door. The door closes behind them as they walk out into the small corridor.

"Why are you here?" Jolt asks, a certain chill in her voice.

"Pardon?"

"Don't play innocent with me," she snarls. Her eyes glow beneath her red goggles. "I follow the news reports on this team. Zenda, the White Tiger, she retired from the team a few weeks ago."

"Yes, so what of it?"

"So I think it's a little coincidental that you happened to show up almost at the same time to take her place. And I think it's a little unlikely that Songbird let you keep your identity a secret after you joined."

"So," Citizen V says coolly. "I'm not the first member to keep a few secrets."

"You _are_ the first to convince the Thunderbolts that they'd be better off not knowing. We may forgive deceptions, but we've never been to trusting. And yet the others have accepted you in a very short time. They even vouched for you at the briefing."

"I earned their trust," she explains.

"Or you pushed the right buttons. I'll ask you again. Why are you here--Karla?"

Suddenly I feel like I just stepped out of the shower and into a football stadium. My cover's completely blown, and I almost let my own image ripple over my disguise. "How...? How?" I feel completely vulnerable now, I want to leave, to get away, but I can't concentrate.

"I guessed," Jolt admits. "Songbird was dead on, you wanted us to find you. The problem was that she assumed it was a matter of tracking you down. I figured you'd want to make it a psychological game. When Paradigm failed to detect you, I decided you might be hiding in plain sight."

I manage a weak smile. "He's a competent team player, but he's still more interested in improving himself. So he equated the mundane with the unimportant. If he'd bothered to perform a simple DNA scan he would have found me at once."

Jolt crosses her arms and stares. "So you concealed your powers. How?"

"The Serpent Crown," I say. I feel a certain satisfaction in describing my cleverness. "I found a way to block its harmful effects and to conceal it's powers from detection. Namor couldn't sense Set's psychic link because I severed it. Still, the crown has the power to create illusions, so I could hide my own powers and maintain this disguise."

"Well, I found you," she says impatiently, "so now what? What was the point of this whole farce?"

"I wanted to see how my work had progressed," I explain. "I wanted to know if the Thunderbolts could continue on without my presence. From the look of things, some of them are a little sentimental about the old days, but overall, things are promising. You, on the other hand" I continue, pointing to her, "have truly impressed me. I can see you've come a long way from the scared little girl I looked after so many years ago." I'm starting to recover. Things are starting to become clearer now that I can be myself again.

"Yeah, I've learned how to take care of myself, thank you," she answers brusquely. "You wanted me to be self-reliant, tough enough mentally to handle my own problems so I wouldn't have to become dependent on others. So if I've earned your guidance, if I've lived up to your standards, what are you going to do now? Surrender yourself?"

I smirk. "No, I'll resign and return to my own business. I'd appreciate it if you'd let the Thunderbolts know that they can stop looking for me. There's nothing to be accomplished." With that, I turn around and get ready to phase out of the sub.

"Bull."

I turn around. "Excuse me?"

"If you honestly believe that you went into a fugue to infiltrate the team and check up on them then you're even crazier than I'd heard!" Jolt fumes. "And after everything you've been through with the Serpent Crown, you casually put it on again like it was a party hat! You need help, Karla. You're just too arrogant or blind or insane to see it."

I could kill her. A simple energy blast and the hull would buckle and crush like an eggshell. I could say a few choice words and reduce her to tears. For that matter, I could utilize the powers of the Serpent Crown and she wouldn't even remember discovering me.

But I don't. She knows that everything I ever cared about is on this tiny vessel. I said so myself. And she stands her ground, confident that her words have struck a chord.

"You say that we owe so much to you, Karla," she stresses. "Maybe we do. So why not let us return the favor. At least let us try."

"Don't you think that I would know if I needed your help?" I ask. "That I would ask for it if I wanted it?"

"Nobody asked me if I wanted you to be my mother."

She smiles ever so slightly. She's gotten to be quite good at these little games, now that I think about it. Maybe good enough to have a point. I turn around once more and phase through the hull.

"I'll... think about it," I say as I leave. Let her tell the others whatever she wants, I decide. If nothing else, I've learned that the Thunderbolts can get along without me. My work can stand on its own merit.

Now I have to decide if the same can be said about me.

THE END